eJournals

Heft 2/ 2021 Band 32 Forum Modernes Theater enthält das Themenheft: Text, Image, Performance herausgegeben von Jan Lazardzig Inhalt Aufsätze Peter W. Marx (Köln) „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie . . 141 Steff Nellis (Ghent) All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159 Christopher Balme (Munich) Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178 Themenheft: Text, Image, Performance Jan Lazardzig (Berlin) Editorial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195 Aufsätze Claudia Daiber (Groningen) / Elke Huwiler (Amsterdam) Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge: The Protestant Passion Play and the Catholic Saint Play . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198 François Lecercle (Paris) Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215 Clotilde Thouret (Nancy) In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228 Kati Röttger (Amsterdam) Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity . . . . . . 238 Isa Wortelkamp (Leipzig) Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 254 Tancredi Gusman (Lucerne) Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes (Amsterdam) The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278 Gabriele Brandstetter (Berlin) The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? . . . . . . . . 288 Rezensionen Evelyn Annuß. Volksschule des Theaters. Nationalsozialistische Massenspiele (Maren Möhring) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303 Katarina Kleinschmidt. Artistic Research als Wissensgefüge. Eine Praxeologie des Probens im zeitgenössischen Tanz (Katja Schneider) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 304 Henning Fülle. Freies Theater. Die Modernisierung der deutschen Theaterlandschaft (1960 - 2010) (Anna Volkland) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 306 Lore Knapp. Formen des Kunstreligiösen. Peter Handke — Christoph Schlingensief (Sarah Pogoda) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 308 Autorinnen und Autoren . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311 Umschlagabbildung: Gina Pane, Performance “ A hot afternoon ” / “ Ein heißer Nachmittag ” (Detail), documenta 6 (1977). © VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2021 Foto: Ingrid Fingerling. © documenta archiv / Ingrid Fingerling. © 2021 · Narr Francke Attempto Verlag GmbH + Co. KG Dischingerweg 5 · 72070 Tübingen Die in der Zeitschrift veröffentlichten Beiträge sind urheberrechtlich geschützt. Alle Rechte, insbesondere das der Übersetzung in fremde Sprachen, vorbehalten. Kein Teil dieser Zeitschrift darf ohne schriftliche Genehmigung des Verlages in irgendeiner Form - durch Fotokopie, Mikrofilm oder andere Verfahren - reproduziert oder in eine von Maschinen, insbesondere von Datenverarbeitungsanlagen, verwendbare Sprache übertragen werden. Auch die Rechte der Wiedergabe durch Vortrag, Funk- und Fernsehsendung, im Magnettonverfahren oder ähnlichem Weg bleiben vorbehalten. Fotokopien für den persönlichen und sonstigen eigenen Gebrauch dürfen nur von einzelnen Beiträgen oder Teilen daraus als Einzelkopien hergestellt werden. Jede im Bereich eines gewerblichen Unternehmens hergestellte oder benützte Kopie dient gewerblichen Zwecken gem. § 54 (2) UrhG und verpflichtet zur Gebührenzahlung an die VG WORT, Abteilung Wissenschaft, Goethestraße 49, 80336 München, von der die einzelnen Zahlungsmodalitäten zu erfragen sind. Internet: www.narr.de eMail: info@narr.de Satz: typoscript GmbH, Walddorfhäslach CPI books GmbH, Leck ISSN 0930-5874 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie Peter W. Marx (Köln) Angesichts der immer größeren Bedeutung digitaler Verfahren für die kulturwissenschaftliche Forschung diskutiert der Aufsatz die Potenziale für die Theaterhistoriographie. Dabei geht es nicht allein um die innovativen, digital gestützten Methoden, sondern vielmehr um die spezifische Logik theaterhistorischer Forschung. Ausgehend von einer kritischen Diskussion des fachinternen Diskurses über die Entwicklung neuer Forschungsfragen und -paradigmen, formuliert der Aufsatz schließlich die Perspektive einer umfassenden Medienökologie, in der auch Forderungen nach einer substanziellen Dekolonialisierung des historischen Diskurses aufgezeigt werden können. Medienökologie ist gekennzeichnet als: polyglott, polyzentrisch, polyphon und polymorph sowie in einem umfassenden Sinne als durchlässig und vernetzt. Ein Beispiel einer solchen Perspektive bildet schließlich der Modellversuch Kölner Chrono-Atlas, der Ereignis- und Personendaten zusammenträgt und in einem übergreifenden Modell zu vernetzen erlaubt. Obgleich das Projekt noch am Anfang steht, wird schon deutlich, dass das hier gewählte Verfahren abgeschattete Aspekte der Theatergeschichte, wie etwa das Unternehmertum weiblicher Prinzipial*innen nicht mehr als anekdotische Einzelfälle, sondern als Konstante des Feldes, aufzeigt. There is an Indian story [. . .] about an Englishman who, having been told that the world rested on a platform which rested on the back of an elephant which rested in turn on the back of a turtle, asked (perhaps he was an ethnographer; it is the way they behave), what did the turtle rest on? Another turtle. And that turtle? ‚ Ah, Sahib, after that it is turtles all the way down. ‘ 1 Wissenschaften entwickeln sich - entgegen ihrer eigenen Legitimationsrhetorik - keineswegs entlang von Sachfragen, ‚ Problemen ‘ oder ‚ Lücken ‘ , sondern oftmals mit Bezug auf und in Auseinandersetzung mit Faktoren, die sich teilweise aus einer ihnen eingeschriebenen Grundkonstellation ergeben, oder in dem sie dem Diskurs des historischen Augenblicks folgen. Die Frage nach adäquaten Methoden und Evidenzen ist immer auch ein Echo auf solche Verschiebungsprozesse. Der Theaterwissenschaft ist ein solcher Prozess gewissermaßen schon seit ihrer akademisch-institutionellen ‚ Geburt ‘ in die DNA eingeschrieben worden: Die vielbeschworene Flüchtigkeit des Gegenstands - die zunächst als ein Malus gegenüber vergleichbaren Disziplinen erschien - wurde zum Leitstern ihrer Entwicklung, die in Wellen unterschiedliche Aggregatszustände anstrebte: Sei es die ‚ Verfestigung ‘ zur Textähnlichkeit, sei es das nahezu völlige Verschwinden im Zeichen dekonstruktivistischer Theoriebildung. Man mag Hermann Reichs Warnung, die er seinem ebenso enzyklopädisch anmutenden, wie daran scheiterndem Werk Der Mimus (1903) voranstellte, es drohe ein Streit „ um leere Schatten “ 2 , als eine Urszene dieses methodischen Dilemmas begreifen. In Abgrenzung zunächst gegen die Literarisierung (und Verbürgerlichung) des Theaters, später gegen eine einseitige Ausrichtung auf be- Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 141 - 158. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0015 stimmte Ästhetiken, entwickelte die Theatergeschichtsschreibung ein Entwicklungsprofil, das sich in der Spannung von Flüchtigkeit und Beharrlichkeit entfaltete. Einer solchen Binnenlogik, bei der wie in der Geertz ’ schen Anekdote Schildkröte auf Schildkröte in unabschließbarer Kette folgt, stehen im gegenwärtigen Diskurs der Kulturwissenschaften zwei sehr deutliche Anrufungen gegenüber: Auf der einen Seite stehen die Konsequenzen der Digitalisierung, denen man sich konzeptionell widersetzen zu können glauben mag, deren Ubiquität und kulturelle Legitimität jedoch nicht zuletzt durch die Corona-Pandemie eine substanzielle Steigerung erfahren haben. Auf der anderen Seite hat der Ruf nach einer Dekolonisierung neue Bedeutung gewonnen und ist zu einer Forderung nach einer kritischen Revision der etablierten Kategorien und Begriffsapparate geworden. Mit Blick auf konkrete Forschungsprojekte und -fragen will dieser Aufsatz mögliche Perspektiven und Entwicklungsmöglichkeiten diskutieren. Chancen und Beschränkung: Glanz und Elend digitaler Kulturwissenschaften Digital Humanities ist das Zauberwort der Stunde und die Verheißungen dieses neuen methodischen Apparats lassen nicht nur in zahlreichen Förderinstitutionen die Herzen höher schlagen, sondern haben auch innerhalb der Kulturwissenschaften zu einem neuen Selbstbewusstsein geführt. Projekte, die früher Über-Lebenswerke waren, die mehrere Generationen von Wissenschaftler*innen nährten, aber auch verzehrten, scheinen plötzlich in die Sphäre des Machbaren gerückt. Dies betrifft sowohl Editionsprojekte als auch die Durchsuchung und Bearbeitung großer Textcorpora, die früher hunderte von Karteikarten mit Dutzenden von Schlagworten füllten und die heute auf Knopfdruck durchsucht, geordnet und bearbeitet werden können. Auch gänzlich neue Forschungsmethoden treten ins Rampenlicht und versprechen traditionell-hermeneutischer Schwergängigkeit eine bislang ungekannte Leichtfüßigkeit beizubringen: Schlagworte wie „ distant reading “ oder „ Netzwerkanalysen “ tragen den Klang jener Futurismen, mit denen die Kulturwissenschaften sich selbst in die Zukunft zu katapultieren versprachen. Der Gestus weltfremder Enthaltsamkeit hilft allerdings auch nicht, denn es ist ein schaler Trost, der sich alleweil einstellenden Ernüchterung mit der Selbst-Zufriedenheit begegnen zu wollen, dass auch die hochstrebenden digitalen Bäume nicht bis in den Himmel reichen, dass oftmals im digitalen Gewand ziemlich kleine Erkenntnisse daherkommen und dass die rein quantitative Steigerung von Datenmengen nicht automatisch in einen Zuwachs an Erkenntnis umschlägt. Bisweilen im Gegenteil. So wirken manche digitalen Projekte ziemlich fußgängerisch und traditionell. Aber bedeutet dies, dass man die Anrufung des Digitalen gleich ganz in Bausch und Bogen verwerfen kann? Aus der Perspektive von bestands- oder sammlungshaltenden Institutionen stellt sich die Frage in noch ganz anderer Weise: Hier lässt sich zum einen nach der technischen Archivierung von digitalen Daten und Digitalisaten fragen: Wer weiß schon wirklich, wie Datenträger und Dateien altern? Zum anderen, wie mit der neuen Qualität der Objekte umzugehen ist. Damit ist keineswegs nur die materielle Beschaffenheit gemeint, sondern auch die sich verändernde Bedeutung, die ihnen zukommt. Ein Beispiel mag dies verdeutlichen: Die Theaterwissenschaftliche Sammlung der Universität zu Köln (TWS) hält in ihrem Bestand ca. 300.000 analoge Photographien, deren älteste bis in die Mitte des 19. Jahr- 142 Peter W. Marx hunderts zurückreichen, also in die Frühphase professioneller, kommerzieller Photographie. Schon in dieser Frühphase des Mediums etabliert sich jene Wahlverwandtschaft mit dem Theater, dank derer man eine umfassende Photographiegeschichte im Prisma der Theaterphotographie schreiben könnte. Die Verschiebung von der analogen zur digitalen Photographie hat nicht nur die Praxis der Bilderzeugung, sondern auch die Praxis der Bildzirkulation verändert: Wurde früher durch die Pressestellen der Theater in der Regel eine kleine Auswahl von Bildern zur Verfügung gestellt, bieten heute digitale Datenträger, online zugängliche Bilddatenbanken oder Download-Plattformen eine Fülle von Bildern. Als die Theaterwissenschaftliche Sammlung 2013 den Nachlass des Kölner Photographen Klaus Weimer als Dauerleihgabe übernahm, befanden sich auf den Datenträgern in seinem Nachlass rund 2 Millionen Photos - und dies ist kein Einzelfall. Die Flut digitaler Bilder, Ton- und Bildaufnahmen, die Flut digitaler Daten wird die Archive vor Herausforderungen stellen, denen man nicht mit den Mitteln der klassischen Kategorisierung und Katalogisierung begegnen können wird. Einschneidender sind aber vermutlich die Veränderungen, die sich aus der inneren Logik digitaler Verfahren heraus entfalten wird: So irritiert die immer wieder zu vernehmende Diskussion um die Entwicklung von ‚ Ontologien ‘ nicht allein wegen des begriffsgeschichtlich ungenauen Sprachgebrauchs, sondern auch und vor allem wegen der dahinterliegenden Vorstellung einer enzyklopädischen Erfassung und Festschreibung. Diese Entwicklung ist für die Kulturwissenschaften nicht ohne wissenschaftshistorische Ironie, denn schließlich hat sich der lange Zeit dominante Diskurs der Dekonstruktion genau gegen solche Fixierungen verwahrt. Ein poststrukturalistisch lässiges Am-Rande-Stehen wird aber nicht dauerhaft möglich sein, denn die Langzeitwirkung solcher kategorialen Auswirkungen wird auch jene Bereiche erfassen, die bislang noch in vermeintlich prädigitaler Unschuld zu ruhen scheinen. Es geht um nicht mehr und weniger als ein Wissensregime, dessen umfassendem Anspruch sich nicht zu entziehen sein wird. So stellt sich umgekehrt die Frage, wo und wie sich aus der Spannung unterschiedlicher Wissenssysteme produktive Einsichten entfalten lassen - dabei ist die Widerständigkeit archivarischer Ordnung nicht als zu überkommendes Hindernis zu betrachten, sondern als Teil eines dialogischen Wechselspiels. Das Institut für Theaterwissenschaft der Freien Universität Berlin und die Theaterwissenschaftliche Sammlung der Universität zu Köln sowie das Cologne Center for eHumanities haben gemeinsam im Rahmen eines BMBF-geförderten Projekts den Versuch eines solchen produktiven Wechselverhältnisses zu entspinnen versucht: Unter dem Titel „ Re-Collecting Theatre History “ haben Projektgruppen an beiden Standorten ein komplexes Datenbanksystem entwickelt, das die Widerständigkeit archivarischer Objekte auf der einen Seite und historiographische Ordnungskategorien der Theaterwissenschaft auf der anderen Seite in einen fruchtbaren Dialog zu bringen verspricht. 3 Ausgangspunkt des Projekts war dabei der Umstand, dass die Ordnung archivarischer Bestände oftmals ‚ quer ‘ zu historischen Ordnungskategorien liegt und dass dieser Widerspruch oftmals im Prozess historischer Analyse aufgelöst werden muss: Spiegeln Archivbestände unter dem Rubrum des Nachlasses biographische Zusammenhänge, so besteht die historische Analyse oftmals darin, die Objekte in neue (Ordnungs-)Kontexte zu überführen und der Kontingenz des individuellen Lebens eine höhere Ordnung im Sinne eines historischen Narrativs gegenüberzustellen. Was aber pas- 143 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie siert, wenn man die ‚ Zufälligkeit ‘ der individuellen Lebensspanne ernst nimmt, indem man sie - durchaus in Spannung zu anderen Ordnungskategorien - als Orientierungsrahmen historischer Forschung nutzt? In der dreijährigen Projektlaufzeit wurden insgesamt 4.583 Akteur*innen erfasst und 2.816 Objekte (Photographien, Briefe, Dokumente) digitalisiert, deren Zusammenhang sich in 635 Inszenierungen niederschlug. Drei Datenbanken verwinden sich ineinander, wobei die Inszenierungen als Knotenpunkte fungieren, von denen ausgehend sich weitere Akteur*innen und Objekte erschließen lassen. So leistet das Projekt zunächst einmal auf einer sehr pragmatischen Ebene eine Zusammenführung von Objekten und Forschungsdaten im Digitalen, die ansonsten in verschiedenen Sammlungen lagern und deren Bezogenheit bzw. Verfügbarkeit zu erforschen üblicherweise mit großer Mühe verbunden ist. Diese Bezogenheit wird vor allem dann aussagekräftig, wenn es etwa um die Mitwirkung von Akteur*innen geht, die ansonsten nicht unbedingt in der ersten Reihe der Aufmerksamkeit stehen - Darsteller*innen etwa, die zu Beginn ihrer Laufbahn in kleineren Partien auftraten. Hier eröffnet die Datenbank die Möglichkeit, Lebens- und Berufswege nachzuvollziehen, nicht nur im Sinne biographischer Erzählungen, sondern über Wechselwirkungen und Beziehungen. Dass die Inszenierung hier als Ordnungseinheit so prominent figuriert, ist zum einen dem historischen Rahmen geschuldet, denn die Daten entstammen alle einem Zeitraum zwischen ca. 1890 und 1960, d. h. einer theaterhistorischen Epoche, in der sowohl aus produktionspraktischer Perspektive als auch in konzeptioneller Hinsicht die Inszenierung als übergeordnete Einheit an Bedeutung gewann. Zum anderen aber ist es der kollektiv-arbeitsteilige Produktionscharakter dieser Theaterepoche, der diese Entscheidung aus heuristischen Gründen begünstigte. Inszenierungen sind per definitionem vom Zusammenspiel einer Fülle von Akteur*innen auf unterschiedlichen Ebenen bestimmt und bilden damit Knotenpunkte unterschiedlichster Netzwerke. Dass sich dies im Verlauf des Projekts in unterschiedliche Richtungen akzentuieren ließ, zeigt etwa der Fall Carl Hagemann (1871 - 1945), der als Intendant in Mannheim (1906 - 1910; 1915 - 1920), Hamburg (1910 - 1913) und Wiesbaden (1920 - 1927) wirkte. Seine Schriften, wie etwa Spiele der Völker (1919) und Die Kunst der Bühne (1921) waren seinerzeit einflussreiche und viel gelesene Beiträge zum Diskurs über das Theater. Auch wenn Hagemann heute nur noch wenigen bekannt ist, lässt ein Blick auf das mit ihm verbundene Netzwerk schnell erkennen, dass seine Bedeutung nicht nur durch seine eigene Tätigkeit zu messen ist, sondern auch durch die mittelbaren Wirkungen, etwa auf den Frankfurter Expressionismus, dessen Hauptvertreter Richard Weichert (1880 - 1961; als Regisseur) und Ludwig Sievert (1887 - 1966; als Bühnenbildner) in seiner zweiten Mannheimer Intendanz eine wichtige Rolle spielten. Auch wenn keine direkte Spur von Mannheim nach Frankfurt führt und die Bühnenästhetiken sich an beiden Orten deutlich unterscheiden, gibt es beispielsweise signifikante Ähnlichkeiten im Repertoire. Die Aussagekraft dieser Datenbanken wird sich zukünftig mit der Ergänzung um weitere Bestände systematisch steigern lassen, denn die Möglichkeit jenseits bekannter Kategorien zu suchen, wächst unmittelbar mit der Menge der verfügbaren Daten. Dabei kann es keineswegs um enzyklopädische Vollständigkeit gehen, wohl aber um eine Verdichtung des historischen Bezugsrahmens. Vor allem bietet das dreigeteilte Datenbankmodell die Chance, die Entwicklung von Theater, vor allem im 144 Peter W. Marx Brennglas seiner Ästhetik, auch über historische Brüche und Paradigmen hinweg zu untersuchen. Eine der Hoffnungen, die mit der Hinwendung an die Zufälligkeit biographischer Daten verbunden war, war die Vorstellung, dass das individuelle Leben auch einen Blick über historische und kunsthistorische Zäsuren hinaus ermöglichen würde. Dort, wo politische Geschichte Zäsuren beschreibt, lassen sich anhand der Theaterpraxis Spuren der Transformation, aber auch der Kontinuität und des Anachronismus beschreiben. Dieses Panorama kollektiver Vorstellungswelten, die natürlich auch gesellschaftliche wie kulturelle Handlungsräume prägen, wird umso dichter, je mehr Facetten, und eben nicht nur der ‚ Höhenkamm ‘ , berücksichtigt werden. Aus methodischer und historiographischer Sicht besteht die zentrale Leistung des Projekts in der Entwicklung eines Datenmodells, das es erlaubt, Inszenierungen in komplexer Weise zu erfassen und als Datengefüge abzubilden. Diese Errungenschaft beinhaltet jedoch gleichzeitig auch eine der möglichen Gefahren- oder Kritikpunkte: Die vermeintliche ‚ Selbstevidenz ‘ der Inszenierung als idealer Untersuchungseinheit lässt leicht über das historische Gewordensein (und damit die innere Begrenztheit) des Begriffs hinwegsehen. Historiographisch wird somit nicht allein die Fixierung auf das Ästhetische als Zentrum der Theatergeschichte festgeschrieben, sondern auch ein bestimmter Typus der Theaterarbeit zentral gesetzt. So wichtig und produktiv die Analogie von Text/ Inszenierung und Autor*in/ Regisseur*in für die Begriffsbildung für die Theaterwissenschaft war, sie bleibt begrenzt auf ein westliches Theatermodell, das sich im 19. Jahrhundert herausbildet. So stellt sich die Frage nach der inneren Dynamik von Forschungsentwicklung, die Suche nach der nächsten ‚ Lücke ‘ als Gravitationszentrum eines neuen Forschungsparadigmas, mit Blick auf die Frühe Neuzeit etwas anders dar. Es ist sicherlich kein Zufall, dass in den zurückliegenden 40 Jahren vor allem die Auseinandersetzung mit dieser Übergangs- und Formierungsphase westlicher Kultur aus verschiedenen Perspektiven und mit Akzent auf unterschiedliche Regionen und Nationaltraditionen immer wieder neu ausgerichtet wurde. Wichtige Paradigmen der Kulturwissenschaft haben sich in diesem Zeitraum gebildet: So wie die Forschung zur commedia dell ’ arte Legion ist, so sehr hat die Auseinandersetzung mit dem Elisabethanischen Theater seit dem New Historicism und dem Cultural Materialism 4 zu einer Neufassung des Theaterbegriffs geführt. Für den deutschsprachigen Raum waren besonders die Diskussionen um das ‚ Leipziger Theatralitätsmodell ‘ produktiv: Rudolf Münz hat mit seinen Arbeiten - vom ‚ anderen ‘ Theater zum ‚ Harlekinsprinzip ‘ - Überlegungen zu einer historischen Anthropologie des Theaters vorgelegt, 5 die u. a. in Gerda Baumbachs umfassender Historischen Anthropologie des Akteurs (2012/ 2018) einen eindrücklichen Höhepunkt findet. Baumbach entfaltet in den bislang zwei erschienenen Bänden ein historisches Panorama, das vor allem die Verdrängungs- und Disziplinierungsaspekte des bürgerlichen Theaterdiskurses als Leitlinien verfolgt. Fluchtpunkt dieses Ansatzes ist der Körper der Darsteller*innen, dessen Einhegung Baumbach u. a. mit Bezug auf Norbert Elias als Prozess der Körperdisziplinierung begreift. So beschreibt sie die „ Auseinandersetzung um Schauspieler [. . .] als ein europäisches Langzeitthema “ 6 , das paradigmatisch für anthropologische Grundfragen steht. Die dekonstruierende Lektüre konventioneller grands récits ist eindrücklich und einsichtsvoll. Allerdings konstruiert sie, gegen das eigene Bekunden, einen abstrakten 145 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie Raum von Begriffen und Praktiken, dessen historische Verwurzelung und Kontingenz nicht immer deutlich wird. Auch lebt das Argument von Abgrenzungen, so deutet Baumbach die Definition der theatrica bei Hugo von St. Victor (ca. 1127) als Ausgangspunkt einer Engführung des Theater-Begriffs, dessen Wirkung sie bis in unsere Gegenwart sieht: „ Theater sei an erster Stelle ein Ort, ein Gebäude und an zweiter Stelle die Aufführung von Texten. “ 7 In dieser Verschiebung manifestiert sich, so Baumbach, die programmatische Verdrängung der Darsteller*in aus dem begrifflichen Zentrum. Diese Gegenüberstellung von Spiel vs. Raum - eine Opposition, die sich noch an anderer Stelle findet, - bringt aber eigene Probleme: So verweist der Begriff theatrum bis ins 18. Jahrhundert keineswegs auf ein Gebäude, sondern auf einen Standpunkt zum Schauen, wie man eindrücklich am Frontispiz des Straßburger Drucks der Terenz-Komödien sehen kann. 8 Da Baumbach aber ihren historiographischen Blickwinkel durch die Dekonstruktion der verengten Bestimmung des/ der bürgerlichen „ Menschendarsteller*s/ in “ entwickelt, 9 öffnet sie die enge Definition von Schauspieler*innen, verwirft gleichzeitig aber weitere Elemente der szenischen Darstellung wie Raum und Szenerie. Das von ihr entworfene „ Theater des souveränen Schauspielers “ 10 , der die Grenzziehung von ‚ Realität ‘ und ‚ Fiktion ‘ nicht anerkennt, 11 ist allein akteur*innenzentriert. Diese Fokussierung auf den/ die ‚ autonome*n Schauspieler*in ‘ führt aber zu einer weiteren Ausklammerung all jener szenischen Formen, die keinen Menschenkörper oder gar keinen Körper in ihrem Zentrum haben. Dies betrifft sowohl alle Formen des Puppen- und Objekttheaters als auch mediale, para-theatrale Formen wie Perspektivtheater oder Guckkästen. So entsteht - quasi gegen die Intention - eine ‚ Substanzialisierung ‘ , so dass eine vermeintlich feste Grenze zwischen Theater- und Mediengeschichte entsteht. Die Forderung nach einer Dekonstruktion konventioneller historiographischer Modelle bzw. die Entwicklung neuer Perspektiven wurde auch von anderer Seite erhoben und verfolgt: Die internationale Forschungsgruppe „ Theatre without Borders “ bemüht sich seit mehr als einem Jahrzehnt um historische Perspektiven, die nationale Rahmungen hinter sich lassen. Diese Forschung hat einen ganzen Kosmos des Ausgeschlossenen zu Tage gefördert und damit jegliche teleologisch-national orientierte Geschichtsschreibung durch umfangreiche Studien in Frage gestellt. Gleichzeitig lässt sich in der Arbeit dieses losen Forschungsverbands eine bemerkenswerte Verschiebung beobachten: Während in der ersten Phase vor allem Fragen der Zirkulation, Übersetzung und des kulturellen Austauschs im Zentrum standen, 12 ist die neuere Forschung stärker an gegenwärtigen Diskursen zum Thema ‚ Dekolonialisierung ‘ orientiert bzw. hat diese mitkonstituiert. Dies betrifft nicht nur Fragen von Rassismus und außereuropäischen Beziehungen, 13 sondern auch die Bedeutung der Arbeit von Frauen bzw. der Gender-Politik 14 sowie die Mitwirkung von minoritären Gruppen an öffentlichen Festen und theatralen Ereignissen. 15 Dass vor dem Hintergrund der politischen Situation in den USA im Frühjahr 2020 unter dem Schlagwort #RaceB4Race auch die Kulturwissenschaften und insbesondere die (Theater-)Geschichtsschreibung der Frühen Neuzeit einen umfassenden Aufbruch erlebte, darf nicht als bloße Reverenzgeste gegenüber dem Zeitgeist abgetan werden. Die Geschichtswissenschaft weist eine ähnliche Entwicklung auf: Olivette Otele hat ihrer Studie African Europeans (2020) einen Untertitel mit Signalcharakter gegeben: An Untold Story verweist darauf, dass 146 Peter W. Marx die Geschichten von Afro-Europäer*innen schlichtweg nicht erzählt wurden, sie also ‚ unhörbar ‘ sind, weil sie verbzw. totgeschwiegen werden. Das Schweigen aber ist strategischer Natur: Es erzeugt Unsichtbarkeit, um der Fiktion von Homogenität und der Geschlossenheit des ‚ Westens ‘ historischen Vorschub zu leisten. Um dies zu ändern ist es nicht hinreichend, anekdotische oder episodische Ergänzungen zu suchen, sondern ein neuer Blick ist gefordert: Oftmals verbergen sich die Spuren dieser Geschichte nur in kleinen Hinweisen und Bruchstücken. Imtiaz Habib hat in seiner bahnbrechenden Studie Black Lives in the English Archives, 1500 - 1677 16 auf die Mühen eines solchen Unterfangens hingewiesen. Denn die „ Imprints of the Invisible “ , so der Untertitel seiner Studie, bedürfen nicht nur einer sorgfältigen Recherche in den Archiven, sondern auch einer neuen theoretischen Ausrichtung, weil die poststrukturalistische Fokussierung auf die Konstruiertheit von Identitätskategorien durchaus Anteil an der fortgesetzten Unsichtbarkeit minoritärer Gruppen hat: Indeed, the triumph of theory in a poststructuralist age might seem to be the prohibition of the real. The threatening specter of essentialism translates factuality into the unknowable, renders ambivalent if not disallows the value of the archive. [. . .] The resultant scenario can be described thus: what is little looked for, and what is therefore non-existent, is also what is/ should be unkown because it cannot be known. 17 Zu Recht ist dies für Habib keineswegs die Steilvorlage für die empörte Abwendung von der Theorie und die Flucht in die Arme eines kleinteiligen Positivismus, sondern die Aufforderung Archiv- und Theoriearbeit in einen neuen Dialog zu bringen. Zu welchen Perspektiven eine solche Verschränkung führen kann, lässt sich teilweise in den Arbeiten von Boaventura de Sousa Santos erkennen, dessen Beiträge zu den Subaltern Studies in den deutsch- und englischsprachigen Kulturwissenschaften bislang leider nur begrenzt rezipiert wurden. Santos spricht im Zusammenhang mit dem westlichen Kolonialismus auch von einem „ Epistemizid “ , der nicht nur ein Seiteneffekt des Kolonialismus und der von ihm etablierten hegemonialen Strukturen ist, sondern ein integraler Bestandteil. 18 Zentral für Santos ’ Beschreibung epistemischer Systeme des Westens ist die „ abyssal line “ , die Trennlinie zwischen dem ‚ richtigen ‘ und dem ‚ legitimen ‘ Wissen und jenen Formen des Wissens, die ausgegrenzt und marginalisiert werden. Der Gegenentwurf für diese hegemonialen Formen ist für Santos eine „ ecology of knowledges “ , in der die Fülle unterschiedlicher Wissensmodelle sicht- und beschreibbar werden und in ihrer Eigenständigkeit auch als legitim betrachtet werden. It is an ecology because it is based on the recognition of the plurality of heterogeneous knowledges (one of them being modern science) and on the sustained and dynamic interconnections between them without compromising their autonomy. The ecology of knowledges is founded on the idea that knowledge is interknowledge. 19 Zwei Aspekte dieser Überlegungen scheinen mir besonders wegweisend für die Theaterhistoriographie: Santos ’ Konzept des „ postabyssal thinking “ 20 eröffnet auch die Perspektive einer westlichen Introspektion und Überlegungen zur Suche nach Denktraditionen, die innerhalb des westlichen Denkens ausgeschlossen und marginalisiert wurden. Santos selbst spricht hier von der Tradition eines „ non-occidentalist West “ 21 . In The End of the Cognitive Empire (2018) fügt er dieser Überlegung noch eine zweite Ebene hinzu, wenn er davon spricht, dass die „ abyssal line “ auch Randzonen kreiert, von denen er eine Form als „ liberated zones “ beschreibt. Diese seien „ consensual commu- 147 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie nities, based on participation of all their members. They are of a performative, prefigurative, and educational nature. “ 22 Mit diesem Begriff der „ liberated zone “ lässt sich mit Blick auf die theatralen Verhältnisse der Frühen Neuzeit genau jenes Spannungsverhältnis zwischen dem Status rechtlicher Marginalisierung als ‚ Fahrende ‘ oder ‚ Unehrliche ‘ auf der einen Seite und der ihnen eigenen Formen von Wissen und Praktiken deuten, die auch eine gewisse Autonomie bedeutete. Ein Versuch: Der Kölner Chrono-Atlas Nimmt man die Forderung nach einer grundlegenden Dekolonisierung der Kulturwissenschaften ernst und wischt diese nicht als eine modische Forderung beiseite oder begreift die Anrufung lediglich als eine episodische Erweiterung des Blicks, so stellt sich die Frage nach jenen methodischen Konsequenzen mit denen eine Annäherung an die Abschattungen der „ abyssal line “ gezeigt werden können. Dabei ist Habibs Forderung nach einer intrinsischen Bezugsetzung zwischen der Arbeit im/ am Archiv und der Theoriebildung eine hilfreiche und instruktive Wegweisung. Ein Modellversuch an der Theaterwissenschaftlichen Sammlung zielt auf ebendiese Fragestellung: Wie lassen sich - auch mithilfe digitaler Verfahren - Phänomene und Strukturen beschreiben, die ansonsten schon durch das Raster theater- oder medienwissenschaftlicher Begriffsbildung abgeschattet wurden. Einen äußerlichen Anstoß bot hier die Übernahme der Sammlung Werner Nekes, die gemeinsam mit dem Deutschen Filminstitut Frankfurt/ Main (DFF) und der Filmuniversität Potsdam übernommen wurde. Diese Sammlung, die mit 25.000 Objekten eine der weltweit größten Sammlungen optischer Apparate, Bilddokumente und Schriften zu Geschichte des Sehens seit der Frühen Neuzeit darstellt, enthält die materiellen Spuren einer vielgestaltigen und reichen Praxis, die bislang aber vornehmlich im abstrakten Raum technologischer oder ästhetischer Entwicklung beschrieben wird. Der ‚ Sitz im Leben ‘ , die Verbreitung etwa durch die fahrenden Savoyard*innen, die Präsentation auf den Jahrmärkten und Messen, die vielschichtigen Wechselbeziehungen zwischen bildenden Künstler*innen, Druckereien und Verlagen liegen bislang weitgehend im Dunkeln. Abb. 1: Nicolo Cantabella: Savoyardischer Wurmschneider. Kupferstich Augsburg 1720. © Sammlung Nekes/ Miteigentümer UzK/ DFF/ FMP. Sucht man nach Zeugnissen und Spuren von Präsentations- und Aufführungspraxis, stößt man rasch auf eine kaum zu überblickende Fülle theaterhistorischer Arbeiten, die aufgrund ihrer strikt positivistischen 148 Peter W. Marx Perspektive heute kaum noch zur Kenntnis genommen werden bzw. tatsächlich in einem sehr fundamentalen Sinne als ‚ unlesbar ‘ gelten müssen. Vor der Formierung eines akademischen Diskurses zur Theatergeschichte und vor auch nur den zaghaftesten Ansätzen einer universitären Institutionalisierung entstand im letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts eine ausgedehnte Forschungsliteratur zu einzelnen Orten oder Regionen. Eingebunden in den Historismus des Hohenzollern ‘ schen Kaiserreichs wurde Theatergeschichte als Teil einer grundlegenden historischen Selbstverortung betrieben. Akribisch Aktenbestände auswertend und diese wiederum in Listen überführend, die kaum eine sinnvoll auswertbare innere Ordnung aufweisen, sondern Datum an Datum reihen, sind diese Aufsätze im Sinne einer argumentierenden oder thesenbildenden Kulturgeschichte kaum noch verständlich. Autor*innen wie Johannes Bolte, Karl Theodor Gaedertz, Hermann Tardel oder Karl Trautmann sind heute nahezu vergessen oder tauchen maximal noch im Bereich der Fußnoten auf. (In Klammern sei an dieser Stelle darauf hingewiesen, dass sich Ausläufer dieser Tradition bis ins 20. Jahrhundert finden lassen, namentlich in den in Köln von Carl Niessen betreuten historischen Dissertationen.) Es ist nicht ohne Ironie, dass die Vielstimmigkeit unterschiedlicher künstlerischer Praktiken ausgerechnet in diesen Darstellungen zu finden ist, wenngleich zumeist nur am Rande. Gleichzeitig ist es folgerichtig, denn das Bestreben dieser Autor*innen, die Geschichtlichkeit von Theater und theatralen Praktiken nachzuweisen, führt zu ebenjenen Quellen, an denen diese verschiedenen Praktiken aufblitzen: Rechnungsbücher, Magistratsakten und Stadtchroniken. Neben der Einsicht in die ‚ Unlesbarkeit ‘ vieler dieser Schriften treten zwei Beobachtungen besonders hervor: Zum einen scheinen in dieser älteren Literatur Orte und Regionen auf, die in der späteren Geschichtsschreibung kaum noch eine Rolle spielen. So stehen sich hier bisweilen Lokalpatriotismus und spätere, national gesinnte Traditionsstiftung gegenüber. Wurde in der ersten Generation akademischer Theatergeschichte etwa Nürnberg zum Schlüsselmodell frühneuzeitlicher Theatergeschichte - hier amalgamieren historisches Interesse und Nobilitierungsbedürfnis des jungen Fachs, indem es versucht, am Renommee dieses nationalen Erinnerungsortes Anteil zu haben - , so lassen die vielen kleinen Schriften auch alternative Orte aufscheinen. Dies betrifft sowohl Städte und Regionen, die den Kategorien nationaler Identitätsstiftung nicht hinreichend genügten - etwa weil sie katholisch geprägt waren oder Grenzregionen bildeten. Hierzu zählen etwa Köln und das Rheinland insgesamt, aber auch Städte wie Straßburg, Mainz oder Kiel. Darüber hinaus findet sich eine Vielzahl von Städten, deren Theatergeschichte vollends aus dem Blick geraten ist, wie etwa Biberach (Ofterdinger 1883), Kaufbeuren (Trautmann 1886) oder Odense (Hansen 1963). In der Fülle der unterschiedlichen Ortspunkte, die sich eben nicht zu einem übergeordneten Narrativ fügen, findet sich ein Echo auf die „ Frühneuzeitliche Polyzentralität “ 23 , die eben im theaterhistorischen grand récit akademischer Prägung zugunsten weniger Entwicklungslinien zurückgedrängt wird. Die zweite Beobachtung lässt sich nur anstellen, wenn man ‚ einen Schritt zurücktritt ‘ und die einzelnen Beiträge nicht als in sich geschlossene, sondern ‚ quer ‘ liest: Dann werden Akteur*innen und Gruppen erkennbar, die ansonsten allenfalls episodischen Charakter haben. Die vermeintliche quantité negliable von theatralen Formen wie Puppen- oder Schattenspiel scheint hier ebenso auf wie mediale Praktiken. Folgt man hier einer Perspektive, die Theatergeschichte als Teil einer ‚ Kritischen Medien- 149 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie geschichte ‘ 24 versteht, so rückt nicht die Geschlossenheit der einzelnen Form, sondern vielmehr die ‚ Medienökologie ‘ der Frühen Neuzeit, verstanden als ein Geflecht und Bezogensein unterschiedlicher Formen, in den Blick. 25 Das Konzept der Medienökologie impliziert vor allem eine Verortung in spezifischen Kontexten und keine abstrakte Historie von ‚ Erfindungen ‘ oder ‚ Entdeckungen ‘ . Mit diesem Begriff lassen sich einige Kernmerkmale dieses historischen Raumes bestimmen: 1. Polyglott. Mehrsprachigkeit ist ein Grundmerkmal der Kultur der Frühen Neuzeit. Es berührt sowohl Fahrende Truppen und Künstler*innen als auch die gebildete (Latein) oder höfische Kultur (französisch), die neben und in Austausch mit der ‚ Volkskultur ‘ bestand, sowie die Ordnung der Sprachräume als solche. Aus einer Perspektive nationalstaatlich geprägter Raumverständnisse, in der in der Regel Sprache und Territorialität gleichgesetzt werden, sind die tatsächlichen Sprachregionen und Grenzen der Verständlichkeit, die bis ins späte 18. Jahrhundert bestanden, oftmals nicht mehr erkennbar. 2. Polyzentrisch. Der grundsätzlich heterogene Raum der Frühen Neuzeit war nicht auf einzelne Zentren ausgerichtet, so wie dies die kolonial-hegemoniale Metaphorik von Zentrum und Peripherie nahelegt. Vielmehr ist die konstitutive Vielfalt von Zentren als Ausgangspunkt zu nehmen, auch um deren unterschiedliche Charakterisierung zu begreifen. So stehen - in funktionaler und symbolischer Differenzierung - politische Zentren (Residenzstädte) neben ökonomischen (Messe-, Handels- und Hansestädte), verkehrstechnischen (etwa Hafenstädte), technologischen (bspw. Druckorte), Bildungs- (Universitätsstädte) und religiösen Zentren (Wallfahrtsorte, geistliche Zentren). 3. Polyphonie von Formen. Künste und Medien stehen in der frühneuzeitlichen Medienökologie in einem Verhältnis wechselseitiger Bedingung und Überlagerung. Die kategoriale Trennung und Ausdifferenzierung, wie sie vor allem der Diskurs des 18. Jahrhunderts formuliert, verstellt den Blick auf diese Gleichzeitigkeiten und Überlagerungen. 4. Polymorph. Gerade in der Mediengeschichtsschreibung finden sich immer wieder Ansätze zu einer Perspektive teleologischer Entwicklungen. Befeuert werden diese besonders durch technikorientierte Modelle. So haben etwa Bolter/ Grusin (1999) mit ihrem Konzept der ‚ Remediation ‘ zwar einen Ansatz mediengeschichtlicher Entwicklung beschrieben, der nicht von der Verdrängung vorgängiger Techniken ausgeht, gleichzeitig aber das Prinzip eines immer zu perfektionierenden Illusionismus festschreibt. Phänomene und Praktiken, die diesem Grundsatz nicht genügen, werden marginalisiert oder ausgeklammert. 26 Dies verkennt aber, dass das Ideal des Realismus eine kulturell kontingente Setzung ist - ihr stehen eine Fülle von Praktiken und Techniken gegenüber, die gerade die Künstlichkeit und Phantastik in ihr Zentrum stellen. Georg Minissale hat etwa mit Blick auf die indische Malerei der Mogul-Zeit zeigen können, dass eine solche Perspektive von einem unhinterfragten Okzidentalismus geprägt ist. 27 5. Durchlässigkeit und Vernetztheit. Die kulturellen Handlungs- und Interaktionsräume der Frühen Neuzeit waren weitergezogen und vernetzter als dies sich einer auf Europa fixierten Perspektive erschloss. Während sich mit dem 19. Jahrhundert eine Historiographie der westlichen Vorherrschaft durchsetzt, 28 die ‚ Kontakte ‘ oftmals im Bild der Aggression bzw. komplementär des 150 Peter W. Marx Abwehrkampfes begriff, rücken in der jüngeren Forschung alternative politische Konzepte sowie die Vernetztheit mit dem außer-europäischen Raum stärker in den Vordergrund. Sanjay Subrahmanyam hat in diesem Kontext - auch in Abkehr von einem Begriff der Globalisierung, der die technologischen, ökonomischen und politischen Bedingungen des 19. Jahrhunderts zur Voraussetzung nimmt, - das Konzept der ‚ connected histories ‘ vorgeschlagen. 29 Gerade in mediengeschichtlicher Hinsicht ermöglicht ein solcher Ansatz neue Perspektiven. So sei hier beispielhaft auf eine signifikante Gleichzeitigkeit verwiesen: 1671 veröffentliche Athanasius Kircher SJ (1602 - 1680) die viel referenzierte zweite Auflage seiner Ars Magna Lucis et Umbræ, die eine der ersten Abbildungen der laterna magica enthielt. Wenige Jahre später präsentierte der Jesuit Filippo Claudio Grimaldi (1638 - 1712) mit der laterna und der camera obscura zwei Apparate am Kaiserhof in Peking, die Kircher prominent diskutiert und präsentiert hatte. 30 Gleichzeitig sind seit den 1670er Jahren die ersten Zeugnisse des Schattenspiels im deutschsprachigen Raum belegt - der historische Terminus ‚ italienische Schatten ‘ aber verweist weniger auf eine klare Herkunftsregion als auf das factum des Importiertseins. 31 Frühneuzeitliche Mediengeschichte ist also immer auch als eine Zirkulationsgeschichte zu denken. Das Konzept der Medienökologie, so lässt sich zusammenfassen, erfordert a priori ein Abb. 2: Aus der Werkstatt Pieter de Bloots: Ausschnitt aus dem Gemälde Marktszene mit Guckkasten, um 1640. © Sammlung Nekes/ Miteigentümer UzK/ DFF/ FMP. Abb. 3: Cochin filius: Foire de Campagne, Frankreich um 1750. © Sammlung Nekes/ Miteigentümer UzK/ DFF/ FMP. 151 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie Denken in vielstimmigen und heterogenen Kontexten, indem sie nicht von der Technologie als Letztbegründung ausgeht, sondern von deren unterschiedlichen Aneignungen und Einbindungen. Dieses offene Konzept der Medienökologie historiographisch zu fassen, erfordert ein Vorgehen, das auf der einen Seite Objekte in ihrer Materialität und den ihnen eingeschriebenen Praktiken bedenkt, gleichzeitig aber danach sucht, die konkrete kulturellen Orte, den ‚ Sitz im Leben ‘ dieser Objekte und Praktiken zu beschreiben. Hier kann, wie erwähnt, die ältere Form der Geschichtsschreibung in ihrer positivistischen Listenmacherei nachgerade hilfreich sein. Voraussetzung aber ist ein Zugang, der nicht an der engen Form klebt, sondern diese Information in Daten übersetzt und diese Daten wiederum in Beziehungen zueinander zu setzen erlaubt. Digitale Methoden beinhalten hier zwei Schritte: Zum einen die Loslösung der einzelnen Datenpunkte aus ihrem engen Kontext und die Möglichkeit, sie zueinander in Beziehung zu setzen. (In der historischen Literatur passiert dies - etwa bei Trautmann - durchaus vereinzelt, führt aber vor allem zu einem Anwachsen des Anmerkungsapparats, der auch im wörtlichen Sinne den Rahmen von Text sprengt.) Zum anderen lassen sich die Datenpunkte mithilfe entsprechender Datenbanken ‚ dynamisieren ‘ und aus dem schleppenden Trott eines kurzsichtigen Positivismus zu mobiler Bezüglichkeit überführen. Die Voraussetzung ist eine konzeptionelle Vorarbeit, die im Kölner Modellversuch auch als eine kritische Auswertung der Ergebnisse des „ Re-Collecting “ -Projekts entstanden ist: Während bei jenem Projekt die Inszenierung als zentrale Einheit der Datenorganisation fungierte, würde eine Übertragung dieses Modells die Dynamik der frühneuzeitlichen Medienökologie unterlaufen. Kritische Mediengeschichte heißt hier, nicht von den Begriffen auszugehen, sondern diese als terminus ad quem, als Zielpunkt historischer Entwicklungslinien zu begreifen. Eine Mobilisierung der einzelnen Datenpunkte kann folglich nur gelingen, wenn ein Datenmodell entwickelt wird, das möglichst offen und dynamisch ist und Vorfestlegungen so weit wie möglich vermeidet. Unter dem weiteren Blickwinkel einer Medienökologie ist es auch sinnvoll und notwendig, auf externe Datenquellen zum weiteren historischen Kontext zurückzugreifen, die ebenfalls alternative Formen aufscheinen lassen. Während hierzu in einigen Bereichen gut aufbereitete Daten vorliegen - vor allem zur Entwicklung des Druckhandwerks und der Druck- und Verlagsorte - , ist dies in anderen Fällen, wie den optischen Künsten, sehr viel schwieriger. Die bisherige Forschungslage etwa zu den Guckkästner*innen oder Laternist*innen 32 kommt kaum über das Anekdotische hinaus, Daten zu Handelswegen, technologischen Zentren und Wissensnetzwerke (wie die Jesuiten in dem oben genannten Beispiel) sind historiographisch noch kaum ausgeschöpft. Fluchtpunkt des Kölner Modellversuchs ist die Entwicklung eines digital gestützten Chrono-Atlas, d. h. einer Vernetzung mehrerer Datenbanksysteme, die sowohl die zeitliche als auch die räumliche Dimension abbilden. Während relationale Datenbanken auf eher statischen Datenmodellierungen basieren, operiert der Kölner Chrono- Atlas mit einer flexiblen Graphdatenbank. 33 In einem ersten Schritt galt es, die Chronologie-Listen der Forschungstexte in eine Datenliste zu überführen, die die Daten vereinheitlichte und in ordnenden Kategorien zusammenführte. So gelang es rund 4.400 Ereignisdaten und rund 1.000 Personendaten aus 25 Quellen zu ermitteln. Das Reservoir möglicher Quellen ist dabei weitaus größer, die immer noch im Aufbau befindliche Bibliographie möglicher Quellen umfasst derzeit über 400 Aufsätze und 152 Peter W. Marx Monographien. Zeit- und geographischer Raum sind dabei weitgespannt: Der Kernzeitraum beginnt um ca. 1460 - als Marke wird hier die Entwicklung des kommerziellen Buchdrucks mit beweglichen Lettern angesetzt - und reicht bis ca. 1800 bzw. 1803, als mit dem Reichsdeputationshauptschluss die Alte Ordnung des Heiligen Römischen Reichs deutscher Nation aufgelöst wird. Dieser Fokus überspannt programmatisch konventionelle Epochengrenzen zwischen Renaissance, Aufklärung, Klassik und geht stattdessen von der Formierungsphase der Frühen Neuzeit aus, die mit dem Ende des Ancien Régimes abgeschlossen wird. Der geographische Raum bildet seine Koordinaten ebenfalls erst durch die Sammlung der Datenpunkte aus. Dabei ist auffällig, dass viele Kategorien, die oftmals stillschweigend vorausgesetzt werden, sich als unzureichend oder sogar irreführend erweisen. So lässt sich der Chrono-Atlas nur als ein pan-europäisches Projekt denken, das sowohl Handelsrouten, Netzwerke - wie die Hanse - , die Verbreitung religiöser Orden sowie politische Allianzen mit in den Blick nimmt. Modellskizze (1): Unerhörte Geschichten: Weibliche Prinzipalinnen Die in der Testphase ausgewertete Stichprobe lässt an einigen Stellen erkennen, welche Potenziale eine Mobilisierung der Daten und ihre Neukontextualisierung in sich birgt. Dies gilt besonders für jene Phänomene, die bislang systematisch marginalisiert wurden. So ist sowohl quantitativ der Anteil, mehr aber noch qualitativ die Bedeutung von Theaterkünstlerinnen zu den ausgeblendeten Kapiteln der Theatergeschichte. Zwar sind Einzelfälle wie die ‚ Neuberin ‘ bekannt und werden immer wieder ins Licht gestellt, aber ihre Bedeutung verbleibt aufgrund mangelnder Ergänzungsbeispiele immer noch im Bereich des Anekdotisch-Episodischen. Auch die Forschungslage ist immer noch vergleichsweise dünn: Während für das englische Theater entsprechende Arbeiten durchaus vorliegen, gibt es für den deutschsprachigen Raum kaum Studien. 34 Aufhorchen lässt hier eine Bemerkung, die sich bei Philipp Leibrecht in Zeugnisse und Nachweise zur Geschichte des Puppenspiels in Deutschland (1919) finden lässt: Leibrecht, der kursorisch, aber doch mit Akribie Belege für Puppen- - oder besser würde man heute wohl von Objekttheater sprechen - sammelte, schreibt: Ungewöhnlich oft trifft man in den Basler Ratsprotokollen Bittgesuche von Marionettenspielerinnen. Meist sind es Frauen, Töchter oder Witwen von Puppendirektoren, die aus Not oder Liebe diesem Berufe huldigen. Nähere Aufschlüsse darüber konnten bisher noch nicht ermöglicht werden. 35 Die bislang etwa 4.400 Datenpunkte des Chrono-Atlas weisen mit rund 100 Einträgen, die auf Akteurinnen hinweisen, leider ebenfalls im Augenblick nicht viel mehr als eine zarte Spur in diese Richtung. Allerdings wird schon jetzt deutlich, dass Leibrechts (bürgerlich gebundene) Lesart, nach der eine Frau nur aus ‚ Not oder Liebe ‘ sich dem Gewerbe der schaustellenden Künste zugewandt haben kann, eine programmatische Verknappung ist. Ab 1594 - dem Datum an dem die Nürnberger Ratsprotokolle verzeichnen, dass Margareta Waltherin von Mühlhausen, die ein „ künstlich Werk von Bildern, so sie das irdische Paradies nennet “ 36 präsentieren möchte, die Spielerlaubnis verwehrt wird, - lassen sich kontinuierlich Theaterunternehmerinnen feststellen, die nicht nur als Darstellerinnen firmieren, sondern eigenständig Geschäfte führen. Die Art der Schaustellung - über die Bedeutung von ‚ Himmelreich ‘ wird noch zu sprechen sein - lässt sich durchaus auch in 153 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie anderen Beispielen finden: Natasha Korda etwa diskutiert ausgehend von einem Nürnberger Flugblatt aus dem Jahr 1631 das Beispiel der Anna Köferlin, die dort die Ausstellung ihres „ Kinder-hauss “ angekündigt. 37 Man wird sich dies als eine Mischung aus der Präsentation der miniaturisierten häuslichen Welt und einer erklärenden Performance der Köferlin vorstellen können. Die (noch schmale) Spur von Akteurinnen innerhalb des Chrono-Atlas lässt zwei mögliche Linien ‚ ungehörter ‘ Geschichten erkennen: Zum einen die Tatsache weiblicher Agency, die keineswegs durch ‚ Not oder Liebe ‘ in den sozialen Randzonen erzwungen war, sondern vielmehr im Sinne von Santos ‘ Konzept der ‚ liberated zones ‘ verstanden werden kann: Their purpose is to bring about, here and now, a different kind of society, a society liberated from the forms of domination prevailing today. [. . .] Such alternatives may be experienced according to a logic of either confrontation or parallel existence. Seen from the outside, liberated zones seem to combine social experience with social experimentation. 38 Dass Santos ’ Konzept der ‚ liberated zones ‘ keineswegs Raum für sozialromantische Aussteigerphantasien darstellt, lässt sich ein zweiter Grundzug dieser Geschichte erkennen: Die spezifische Misogynie, die sich in konstanter Aus- und Zurückweisung niederschlägt, teilweise unter unwürdigen Umständen, wie etwa 1675, als Catharina Elisabeth Velten aus Lübeck verwiesen wird, weil sie im Kindbett liegt. (Ähnliches ist 1701 von Claude de Conte aus Basel überliefert.) Weibliche ‚ agency ‘ und ihre gesellschaftliche Zurückweisung erscheinen als zwei Seiten derselben Medaille - auch dies ein Merkmal der ‚ liberated zones ‘ im Sinne Santos ‘ . Spuren dieser Diskriminierung und Anfeindung von Frauen ziehen sich als rote Linie durch Zeit- und geographischen Raum - sie bieten aber nur ein Zerrbild der Unternehmerinnen und Akteurinnen, die offenkundig gerade in der rechtsfreien Zone der „ Unehrlichen “ 39 Freiräume fanden, welche die bürgerliche Gesellschaft ihnen verweigerte. Doch während die bürgerlich geprägte Geschichtsschreibung den Magister Velten als einen der ersten Protagonisten eines literarischen deutschsprachigen Theaters feierte, war es seine Frau Catharina Elisabeth, deren Lebensdaten noch nicht einmal genau überliefert sind, die als Tochter des Prinzipals Carl Andreas Paulsen von Kindesbeinen das Geschäft erlernte. Sie bildet insofern eine Ausnahme als von ihr eine kleine Verteidigungsschrift überliefert ist. Allerdings bedient sie sich einer männlich-gelehrten Stimme, um sich gegen die Anfeindungen zur Wehr zu setzen. 40 So bleibt die Hoffnung, dass aus einer weiteren Akkumulation von Datenpunkten sich Muster und Schemen weiblichen Theaterunternehmerinnentums abzeichnen werden. Modellskizze (2): Medienökologie statt Monokultur Löst man sich von der Vorstellung eines Theaters, in dessen Zentrum konstitutiv entweder ein*e Akteur*in oder die performative Präsentation einer Erzählung steht, sondern stellt man den Akt der Schaustellung, die scena 41 , in den Fokus, so verschieben sich sowohl die Zeiträume als auch die Vernetzungsachsen. Während die akteur*innenszentrierte Theatergeschichtsschreibung eine programmatische Sensibilität für jene ‚ Nebenformen ‘ entwickelt hat, die alle Phänomene von Spiel und Performance einschließen, sind Formen wie das Objekttheater, Automata, Guckkästen oder Projektionsapparate nur selten in den Blick geraten. Dass diese wiederum unter dem Schlagwort des ‚ Prä-Kinematographischen ‘ als ‚ Vor-Geschichte ‘ des Filmischen herhal- 154 Peter W. Marx ten müssen, ist eine Verkürzung, die sich aus der Rückprojektion gegenwärtiger Medien- und Kunstordnungen in den historischen Raum ergibt. Abb. 4.1 - 4.2: Horizontales Perspektivtheater für sechs Bildebenen; Holland. © Photo Hermann und Clärchen Baus, Sammlung Nekes/ Miteigentümer UzK/ DFF/ FMP. Diese Differenzierung aber ist nicht nur unhistorisch - sie unterschlägt auch die komplexen Ausdifferenzierungsprozesse, die gerade aus der Nähe und Vermischung der unterschiedlichen Formen und Praktiken entstehen. So bezeichnet etwa der Ausdruck ‚ Himmelreich ‘ vom 15. bis zum 18. Jahrhundert eine Form des Puppenkastens, der wohl teilweise durch eine versteckte Mechanik bewegt wurde - daher auch die Bezeichnung ‚ Werk ‘ . 42 Die Grenzen zwischen Automata und Puppenspielen sind hier ebenso fließend wie die Unterscheidung von sakral vs. profan. Carl Niessen weist mit Blick auf das Kölner Hänneschen-Theater darauf hin, dass mechanische Krippen bis zum Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts im Rheinland so üblich waren, dass der Ausdruck später auch auf das Puppentheater übertragen wurde. 43 In ähnlicher Weise lassen sich Überschneidungen zwischen optischen Apparaten, Schattenspielen und Menschentheater feststellen. So berichtet etwa ein Ratsprotokoll für Köln aus dem Jahr 1604 von verschiedenen Schaustellungen, u. a. Johann Gademann aus Amsterdam, der einen Spiegel präsentiert. 1670 lässt sich Johann Franciscus Griendel in Nürnberg nieder, bei dem man u. a. auch laternæ magicæ erwerben konnte. 44 Die Präsentation von Guckkästen, Zauberlaternen und anderen optischen Geräten wurde zu einem eigenständigen Zweig der Schaustellerei, der von den ‚ Savoyard*innen ‘ betrieben wurde. Dass tatsächlich bei weitem nicht alle Performer*innen aus dem Grenzgebiet zwischen Frankreich, Italien und der Schweiz kamen, spielt dabei nur eine nachgeordnete Rolle. Bedeutsamer ist vielmehr, dass die Praktiken sich in einem paneuropäischen Kreislauf zwischen Italien, Frankreich, England und Deutschland entwickelten, wobei sowohl die Apparate als auch die Bilder frei zirkulierten. 45 Im 18. Jahrhundert stand mit den Perspektivtheatern 46 eine Technologie zur Verfügung, mit deren Hilfe Bühnenbilder etwa von Giuseppe Galli Bibiena oder Pietro Righini von bekannten Augsburger Verlagen als Blätter gedruckt und verbreitet wurden. Theater, Druckgraphikkunst und Schaustellerei treten hier in ein enges Wechselverhältnis. Genau an diesem Wechselverhältnis aber setzt der Begriff der Medienökologie ein: To take the step from media anthropology to media ecology is to acknowledge the increas- 155 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie ing relevance of spatial networks, locations and patterns of mobility in media and cultural studies, as well as the importance of the network concept with its origin in cybernetics and its implications of multi-level interconnectedness. [. . .] [A]n ecology of media can study media formations as interrelations between human beings and their media environments in changing processes of medialisation or ‘ the history of mediation ’ . 47 Ohne der Theatergeschichte ihr Proprium nehmen zu wollen, eröffnet eine derart erweiterte Perspektive doch einen gänzlich neuen Blick auf die Formierungsphasen von Medien und Künsten, der jedoch darauf verzichtet, diese dynamischen Prozesse in die Zwangslogik einer evolutionären Entwicklung pressen zu wollen. Ausblick Eine wie oben skizzierte Öffnung der Theatergeschichte der Frühen Neuzeit als Teil einer Kritischen Mediengeschichte, für die Formierungs- und Transformationsprozesse im Zentrum stehen, wäre ein Beitrag zu einer Kulturgeschichte, die sowohl den Spuren hegemonialer Verknappungs- und Disziplinierungsdiskurse nachspürte, als auch die ‚ Gegenwelt ‘ und ihre alternativen Wissens- und Wahrnehmungspotenziale deutlich machte. Für ein solches Unterfangen sind Verfahren der Digital Humanities hilfreich, wenn nicht gar notwendig, um die versprengten Spuren in einem dichten Panorama zusammenzufügen - denn die Kette der Schildkröten kennt kein Ende . . . Notes 1 Clifford Geertz, „ Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture “ , in: Clifford Geertz (Hg.), The Interpretation of Cultures. Selected Essays, New York 1973, S. 3 - 30, hier: S. 28 f. 2 Hermann Reich, Der Mimus. Ein litterarentwicklungsgeschichtlicher Versuch, Berlin 1903, S. 5. 3 Beteiligte Personen waren: Verbundleitung: Prof. Dr. Peter W. Marx, Verbundkoordination: Dr. Nora Probst. Koordination am Cologne Center for eHumanities: Prof. Dr. Patrick Sahle, Jonathan Blumtritt; Programmierung und technische Umsetzung: Andreas Mertgens, Enes Türkoglu. Projektleitung FU Berlin: Prof. Dr. Doris Kolesch, Prof. Dr. Matthias Warstat; Koordination: Dr. Vito Pinto, Kustos: Dr. Peter Jammerthal. Kooperationspartner: Theatermuseum Düsseldorf und Deutsches Theatermuseum München. Das Projekt und die Daten sind unter www.recollectingtheatre.com einsehbar. 4 Henry S. Turner, „ Toward a New Theatricality “ , in: Renaissance Drama 40 (2012), S. 29 - 35. 5 Vgl. Rudolf Münz, Das „ andere “ Theater. Studien über ein deutschsprachiges teatro dell'arte der Lessingzeit, Berlin 1979. 6 Gerda Baumbach, Schauspieler. Historische Anthropologie des Akteurs. Band 2: Historien. Leipzig 2018, S. 97. 7 Ebd., S. 195. 8 Peter W. Marx, „ Between Metaphor and Cultural Practices: Theatrum and Scena in the German-speaking Sphere before 1648 “ , in: Elena Penskaya und Joachim Küpper (Hg.), Theater as Metaphor, Berlin 2019, S. 11 - 29. 9 Hierzu besonders auch Gerda Baumbach, Schauspieler. Historische Anthropologie des Akteurs. Band 1: Schauspielstile, Leipzig 2012, S. 31 - 62. 10 Ebd., S. 235. 11 Ebd., S. 235 - 240. 12 Robert Henke und Eric Nicholson, Transnational Exchange in Early Modern Theater. Studies in Performance and Early Modern Drama, Aldershot 2008; Robert Henke und Eric Nicholson, Transnational Mobilities in Early Modern Theater, Farnham 2014. 13 Noémie Ndiaye, „ Aaron ’ s Roots: Spaniards, Englishmen, and Blackamoors in Titus An- 156 Peter W. Marx dronicus “ , in: Early Theatre 19/ 2 (2016), S. 59 - 80; Noémie Ndiaye, „ Staging Habla de Negros: Radical Performances of the African Diaspora in Early Modern Spain “ , in: Journal of Spanish Cultural Studies 21/ 1 (2020), S. 135 - 137; Noémie Ndiaye, „ The African Ambassador ’ s Travels: Plying Black in Late Seventeenth France and Spain “ , in: M. A. Katritzky and Pavel Drábek (Hg.), Transnational Connections in Early Modern Theatre, Manchester 2020, S. 73 - 85. 14 Natasha Korda, Labors Lost: Women ’ s Work and the Early Modern English Stage, Philadelphia 2011; Natasha Korda, Shakespeare ’ s Domestic Economies. Gender and Property in Early Modern England, Philadelphia 2012; Natasha Korda, „ Gyno Ludens: Small Work and Play in Everyday Archives “ , in: Early Modern Women 12/ 1 (2018), S. 173 - 182. 15 Etwa Erith Jaffe-Berg, „ Performance as Exchange: Taxation and Jewish Theatre in Early Modern Italy “ , in: Theatre Survey 54/ 4 (2013), S. 389 - 417; Erith Jaffe-Berg, Commedia dell' Arte and the Mediterranean.Charting Journeys and Mapping ‚ Others ‘ , Transculturalisms, 1400 - 1700, London 2015; Erith Jaffe-Berg, „ Ebrei and Turchi Performing in Early Modern Venice and Mantua “ , in: M. A. Katritzky und Pavel Drábek (Hg.), Transnational Connections in Early Modern Theatre., Manchester 2020, S. 222 - 241. 16 Imtiaz Habib, Black Lives in the English Archives, 1500 - 1677. Imprints of the Invisible, London/ New York 2008. 17 Ebd., S. 9. 18 Boaventura de Sousa Santos, The End of the Cognitive Empire. The Coming of Age of Epistemologies of the South, Durham/ London 2018, S. 8. 19 Boaventura de Sousa Santos, „ Beyond Abyssal Thinking: From Global Lines to Ecologies of Knowledges “ , in: Reviews XXX/ 1 (2007), S. 45 - 89, hier: S. 66. 20 Ebd. S. 66 ff. 21 Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Epistemologies of the South. Justice against Epistemicide, London/ New York 2014, S. 99 - 115. 22 Boaventura de Sousa Santos, The End of the Cognitive Empire. The Coming of Age of Epistemologies of the South, Durham/ London 2018, S. 31. 23 Claudius Sittig, „ Kulturelle Zentren der Frühen Neuzeit. Perspektiven der interdisziplinären Forschung “ , in: Wolfgang Adam and Siegrid Westphal (Hg.), Handbuch kultureller Zentren der Frühen Neuzeit. Städte und Residenzen im alten deutschen Sprachraum, Berlin/ Boston 2012, S. xxxiii-xxxv. 24 Zur ‚ Critical Media History ‘ vgl. Tracy C. Davis und Peter W. Marx, „ On Critical Media History “ , in: Tracy C. Davis and Peter W. Marx (Hg.), The Routledge Companion to Theatre and Performance Historiography, London/ New York 2021, S. 1 - 39, hier: S. 1 - 39. 25 Zum Begriff der Medienökologie vgl. Ingo Berensmeyer, „ From Media Anthropology to Media Ecology “ , in: Birgit Neumann und Ansgar Nünning (Hg.), Travelling Concepts for the Study of Culture, Berlin/ Boston 2016. 26 Davis und Marx, „ On Critical Media History “ , S. 5. 27 Vgl. Gregory Minissale, „ A Short History of Anti-Illusionism “ , in: Gregory Minissale und Celina Jeffery (Hg.), Global and Local Art Histories, Newcastle 2007, S. 117 - 144; Kavita Singh, Real Birds in Imagined Gardens. Mughal Painting between Persia and Europe, Getty Research Institute Council Lecture, Los Angeles 2017. 28 Jürgen Osterhammel, Die Entzauberung Asiens. Europa und die asiatischen Reiche im 18. Jahrhundert, München 2013, Originalausgabe 1998. 29 Vgl. z. B. Sanjay Subrahmanyam, Empires between Islam & Christianity, 1500 - 1800, Albany 2019. 30 Vgl. Laurent Manoni, The Great Art of Light and Shadow. Archaeology of the Cinema, Exeter 2000, Originalausgabe 1995, S. 71 - 73 sowie Deac Rossell, Laterna Magica. Magic Lantern, Bd./ Vol. 1, Stuttgart 2008, S. 49 f. 31 Vgl. Georg Jacob, Geschichte des Schattentheaters, Hannover 1925, S. 161 - 165. 32 Georg Füsslin et al., Der Guckkasten. Einblick - Durchblick - Ausblick, Stuttgart 1996, S. 36 - 45; Rossell, Laterna Magica, S. 28 - 49. 157 „ Turtles all the way down “ . Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie 33 Ein Einblick in diesen Modellversuch ist unter https: / / tws.uni-koeln.de/ projekt/ emmecology möglich. 34 Vgl. etwa Korda, Labors Lost; Natasha Korda, Shakespeare's Domestic Economies. Gender and Property in Early Modern England, Philadelphia 2012; Natasha Korda, „ Gyno Ludens: Small Work and Play in Everyday Archives “ , in: Early Modern Women 12/ 1 (2017), S. 173 - 182. Von den wenigen Arbeiten zum deutschsprachigen Theater sind besonders hervorzuheben: M. A. Katritzky, Women, Medicine, and Theatre 1500 - 1750. Literary Mountebanks and Performing Quacks, Aldershot 2007; M. A. Katritzky, „ English Troupes in Early Modern Germany: The Women. “ , in: Robert Henke and Eric Nicholson (Hg.), Transnational Exchange in Early Modern Theater, Aldershot et al. 2008, S. 35 - 46. Exemplarisch immer wieder die Diskussion zur Neuberin: Ruedi Graf, „ Der Professor und die Komödiantin. Zum Spannungsverhältnis von Gottscheds Theaterreform und Schaubühne “ , in: Bärbel Rudin und Marion Schulz (Hg.), In Vernunft und Sinnlichkeit. Beiträge zur Theaterepoche der Neuberin, Reichenbach i. V. 1999, S. 125 - 144; Laure Gauthier und Bärbel Rudin, „ Die Neuberin in Hamburg. Der alte und der neue Geschmack “ , in: Bärbel Rudin und Marion Schulz (Hg.), in: Vernunft und Sinnlichkeit. Beiträge zur Theaterepoche der Neuberin, Reichenbach i. V. 1999, S. 164 - 199. 35 Philipp Leibrecht, Zeugnisse und Nachweise zur Geschichte des Puppenspiels in Deutschland. Diss. Masch. Albert-Ludwig-Universität, Freiburg i.Br. 1919, S. 42. 36 Zit. nach Hans Richard Purschke, „ Puppenspiel und verwandte Künste in der Reichsstadt Nürnberg. “ , in: Mitteilungen des Vereins für Geschichte der Stadt Nürnberg, MVGN 68, 1981 S. 221 - 259, hier: S. 225. 37 Natasha Korda, „ Gyno Ludens: Small Work and Play in Everyday Archives “ , in: Early Modern Women 12/ 1 (2017), S. 173 - 182. 38 Santos, The End of the Cognitive Empire, S. 31. 39 Otto Beneke, Von unehrlichen Leuten. Culturhistorische Studien und Geschichten, Hamburg 1863. 40 Carl Niessen, Frau Magister Velten verteidigt die Schaubühne, [Schriften aus der Kampfzeit des deutschen Nationaltheaters]. Erneuert zum 50. Geburtstage des Präsidenten der Reichstheaterkammer Ludwig Körner, Köln 1940. 41 Peter W. Marx, „ Scena: Die Potenziale von Performanz und Narrativität “ , in: Christine Göttler et al. (Hg.), Reading Room. Re-Lektüren des Innenraums, Berlin/ Boston 2019, S. 219 - 226; Peter W. Marx, „ Between metaphor and cultural practices: theatrum and scena in the German-speaking sphere before 1648 “ , in: Elena Penskaya und Joachim Küpper (Hg.), Theater as Metaphor, Berlin 2019, S. 11 - 29. 42 Vgl. Philipp Leibrecht, „ Zeugnisse und Nachweise zur Geschichte des Puppenspiels in Deutschland “ , S. 11 - 16; Hans Richard Purschke, Die Anfänge der Puppenspielformen und ihre vermutlichen Ursprünge. Bochum 1979, S. 27 - 34 43 Carl Niessen, Das rheinische Puppenspiel. Ein theatergeschichtlicher Beitrag zur Volkskunde., Rheinische Neujahrsblätter. VII. Bonn 1928, S. 3 - 7. 44 Johann Gabriel Doppelmayr, Historische Nachricht von den Nürnbergischen Mathematicis und Künstlern, Nürnberg 1730, S. 111 f. 45 Georg Füsslin et al., Der Guckkasten, S. 36 - 39. 46 Alberto Milano, Martin Engelbrecht: Perspektivtheater - Dioramen, Stuttgart 2016. 47 Berensmeyer, „ From Media Anthropology to Media Ecology “ , S. 330. 158 Peter W. Marx All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language Steff Nellis (Ghent) When “ All rise! ” is being exclaimed in a courtroom, the attendees know they are supposed to stand up for the judges to enter. When these judges have made a decision at the end, the defendant becomes either guilty or not guilty. Yet, in a theatre hall, language lacks the specific coercive and punitive power to change reality directly. Nevertheless, lots of contemporary theatre and performance artists are implementing the stage to explore the relationship between law and theatre. This article seeks to examine the intricate role of language in both court cases and their fictional counterparts. Therefore, I will rely on Derrida ’ s reassessment of Austin ’ s Speech Act Theory (1962). To illustrate the argument, the importance of language in today ’ s tribunal genre is being discussed for two performances that deal with alternative forms of jurisdiction: Milo Rau ’ sThe Congo Tribunal (2015) and Maria Lucia Cruz Correia ’ sVoice of Nature: The Trial (2019). Preface You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time. — A variation of the US Miranda warning 1 In the United States of America, police officers are obliged to offer criminal suspects the Miranda warning, a specific type of notification advising defendants of their right to silence. This warning is derived from the U. S. Supreme Court case Miranda v. Arizona, 384 US 436 (1966) which dealt with the rights of the defendant, Ernesto Arturo Miranda, that had been violated during his interrogation. Miranda was arrested for armed robbery, kidnapping, and rape. At in the police station, Miranda confessed whilst unaware of his right to remain silent or to speak to a lawyer first. This resulted in a ‘ petition for certiorari ’ , eventually leading to the decision of the Supreme Court to hear Miranda ’ s case again. The final verdict was in favour of the defendant: the Supreme Court set aside Miranda ’ s conviction, which was consequently not introduced into evidence at the second trial. This particular court case exemplifies the importance of language in law. As a defendant, it is of great importance to know that anything you say during an arrest can and will be used against you in court. After all, the words you use, those your lawyer uses to defend you and the verdict of the judge all have a pragmatic effect on your life. Language in general can act performatively, as stated by John Langshaw Austin ’ s Speech Act Theory. 2 But language in court is, in essence, highly performative because of its immediate influence on the lives of those present in the courtroom. For example, when the sentence “ All rise! ” is exclaimed in a courtroom, those present know that they are supposed to stand up for the judges to enter. All the evidence, hearings, testimonies and Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 159 - 177. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0016 speeches by the lawyers of both the prosecution and the defence will lead to a concrete verdict. This decision made by a judge or the jury at the end of the trial results in the accused being declared either guilty or not guilty. Therefore, in the courtroom, language is performative, whilst in a theatre, on the contrary, language lacks this specific coercive power to change reality directly. However, many contemporary artists use the stage to explore the complex relationship between the courtroom and theatre. Although it is not the intention of this article to demonstrate the increasing popularity of the courtroom on the stage, I do want to point out several preeminent artists who have begun relying on structures of the court in their performances, especially in West European theatre: Action Zoo Humain, Lara Staal and Yoonis Osman Nuur, Rebekka de Wit and Anoek Nuyens, Christophe Meierhans, Agency, Milo Rau, Maria Lucia Cruz Correia, Rosella Biscotti, and others. To that end, this article seeks to examine the close connection between the courtroom and the stage by means of a comparative study of the role of language in both court cases and their fictional counterparts: theatrical court case performances. I will attempt to characterize and analyse the difference between language in real court cases and language in contemporary court case performances. I will discuss the importance of language in today ’ s tribunal genre within the performing arts by way of two performances which dealt with alternative forms of jurisdiction on stage: Milo Rau ’ s The Congo Tribunal (2015) and Maria Lucia Cruz Correia ’ s Voice of Nature: The Trial (2019). In doing so, I intend to reveal a theatrical paradox in which artists strive for a reality-effect by staging fictitious lawsuits, Fig. 1: Stage-set during preparations for the theatre project The Congo Tribunal in the theatre hall at Collège Alfajiri in Bukavu, Eastern Congo, where “ The Congo Tribunal ” was held in late May 2015. © 2015 Fruitmarket, Langfilm & IIPM/ Mirjam Knapp. 160 Steff Nellis although their performances lack the power to enforce a real verdict. Within these performances, language is used in several ways, ranging from testimonies and interviews to wordless notions of body language and embodied knowledge. As in court, I argue that language in these theatrical tribunals attempts to be not mere performance language, but performative language in its own way. Spectacular law According to Marett Leiboff the nature of law is particularly theatrical: “ Law ’ s reasoning, doctrines and principles, the tests it deploys, and the writing and structure of judgement and law reports: drama embeds a spectral normativity into law. ” 3 In her recent study, Towards a Theatrical Jurisprudence (2019), Leiboff draws on the founding father of postdrama, Hans-Thies Lehmann, and his Tragedy and Dramatic Theatre (2013): The theatre affords the exemplary site [. . .] for subjecting to interrogation the social energies that circulate - instead of reinforcing them with image-laden storytelling. Therefore, the theatre has the task of presenting revenge within the law, the failure of the law, what proves unjustifiable in its foundations, and the exclusions and acts of deception that constitute it - over and over, for such work can never be done once and for all. It is to be repeated, remembered and performed anew day by day and moment by moment. 4 (Leiboff ’ s emphases) Leiboff explains that the same task is assigned to law itself: “ to remind, through repetition and renewal, the instances of injustice and of failure of law, and their circumstances. This means finding the means through which it can notice how injustice manifests. ” 5 In other words, Leiboff sees the theatre as an important training space for law. This is remarkable because although several researchers (e. g. Arjomand 2018; Read, 2016; Tindemans, 2019; and Vanhaesebrouck, 2015) already posited law as highly theatrical, these positive approaches have remained rare. 6 By highlighting the qualities of what she calls ‘ theatrical jurisprudence ’ , Leiboff attempts to see the possibilities of theatricality in the social sphere in a new light. After all, theatricality as a feature has been evaded ever since Plato ’ s allegory of the cave, which damned theatre to be merely a reflection of a reflection and therefore repulsive. Michael Fried added to this in his 1976 Absorption and theatricality, renewing the aversion to theatricality, which, to him, consists of a selfconsciousness of viewing that compromises a virtuous absorption into the work of art. 7 Yet Leiboff argues that this self-consciousness on the part of the spectator can make a claim for the importance of both aesthetic and legal judgments. Reflecting upon a fictional narrative in a performance, for example a fictitious court case, prompts the spectator to question state apparatuses such as the courtroom in general, not least if the performance embodies the courtroom itself, as is the case in both historical and contemporary court case performances. Consequently, law is not only spectacular in essence, but can be made into an independent, promising trial performance as well. Especially in the German research scene, several publications of varying scope and character have been published in recent years on the tense relationship between the stage and the courtroom. In 2019, Laura Münkler and Julia Stenzel co-edited an anthology on the staging of law: Inszenierung von Recht. Operating from within both Law Studies and Performance Studies, Münkler and Stenzel collect essays on the “ Zusammenhängen zwischen Ästhetik und Recht sowie nach der Performativität von 161 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language Recht ” that stress the intrinsically theatrical aspects of the law. 8 Earlier research conducted by Paula Diehl is also worth mentioning here. In her study Performanz des Rechts (2006), Diehl already characterizes the performativity of law in terms of a wide range of enactments: its ‘ actors ’ , knowledgeproduction, and the enforcement of the verdict. 9 Accordingly, Alan Read suggests in Theatre & Law (2016), law should be seen as part of a distinct way of imagining the real and can thereby provide visions of a community, not only echoes of it. 10 Moreover, law provides a model for how society can or should be. Read indicates, like Leiboff, an inherent anthropological and ontological connection between theatre and law, 11 referring to the influential Homo Juridicus (2006) by Alain Supiot, whom he calls the ‘ French ethnographer of law ’ : It is precisely the law, Supiot suggests, that connects our infinite mental universe, all life ’ s possibilities in the radical heteronomy of all possible actions, with our finite, limited, actual physical existence, and in so doing fulfils the anthropological function of instituting us as rational beings. In this sense we are recognizable as human beings, precisely because we are legal beings first. 12 Read endorses Supiot ’ s view of humankind as homines juridicae instead of homines ludentes. However, he demonstrates that the courtroom, and law in general, remains a place where something is enacted: “ It operates through action, not just a mental operation. It is made up of performing and spectating. ” 13 In other words, the courtroom can be seen as a theatre in which the attendees - lawyers, judges, jury, witnesses, prosecutor, defendant, bailiff, and others - try to collect evidence by reenacting the crime that has been committed. Each participant in this complex course of events plays a specific role and tries to convince the other parties. Hereby, it is striking to see the importance of language in both real lawsuits and in courtroom dramas. Yet, as was already stated by Kent Lerch in 2004, it is almost astonishing to see there has not yet been any systematic empirical research that draws on linguistic and jurisprudential expertise in order to arrive at fundamental statements about the relationship between law and language. 14 In her recent study, Staged: Show Trials, Political Theater, and the Aesthetics of Judgement (2018), Minou Arjomand has mapped the most important theatrical stagings of court cases from the period between the Second World War and 1968. 15 She also argues that it is language that binds the historical court cases and their fictional counterparts together, since the latter rely on dramaturgical techniques from documentary theatre: court proceedings, reports, witnesses ’ testimonies, court transcripts and recordings are fully adopted on stage. 16 Thus, when brought to the stage, these documentary materials, or ‘ the language of law ’ , are reiterated and remain entirely the same. However, the effects change radically, since in the courtroom, language has the pragmatic impact of declaring a binding verdict, whilst in a theatre, on the contrary, language lacks this specific power of enforcement. In this article, I intend to focus on the linguistic and discursive aspects of contemporary court case performances. Force de loi If I say at the conclusion of a performance, ‘ You are free to go ’ , it is meaningless in anything but theatrical effect. Because I have no authority to say this, but also because no ‘ serious ’ time, or rather not the right ‘ real ’ time, has been spent on providing the con- 162 Steff Nellis ditions for such a statement, despite the theatrical time it has passed. If a judge says it, then ‘ you go free ’ , but only after an acknowledged time of appropriate conduct has been committed to it. 17 (Read ’ s emphases) In explaining the difference between a verdict in the courtroom and its counterpart in theatre, Read refers to time as a crucial aspect of jurisprudence: a theatrical performance does not take as long as a real courtroom hearing and is therefore less meaningful. I, however, would like to outline another remarkable, yet hidden difference in Read ’ s quotation, which seems so obvious that we might almost overlook it. The mere fact that Read highlights the difference between his own ‘ You are free to go ’ in a performance, and a judge ’ s ‘ you go free ’ in court, suggests the importance of language regarding the power of enforceability and the court ’ s ruling. To understand the punitive power of law, one should start by considering the punitive power of language. In How to Do Things with Words (1962), J. L. Austin explains the different types of utterances humans can make. In a reaction to the ruling, positivist view that sentences should always contain a truthvalue, he shows that utterances can be performative too. Besides locutionary acts (the literal sentences one speaks), he distinguishes the illocutionary aspects and the perlocutionary aspects of language, respectively the underlying message the speaker expresses and the potential effect this message will have on the listener. 18 Therefore, Austin argues, language is performative. He denotes utterances as ‘ speech acts ’ , not only presenting information, but performing an action, and thus causing a specific effect as well. In addition to indirect speech acts, such as a request or being asked for one ’ s name, Austin also classifies explicit cases of performative sentences, which he calls ‘ performative speech acts ’ 19 . To the examples Austin enumerates, including marriage vows, making a promise, and firing someone, we may add courtroom proceedings, as mentioned above. 20 But how can this particular enforcement in law be explained? Why is it that a court ’ s verdict is more decisive than a theatrical one? The Algerian-born French philosopher Jacques Derrida, best known for his challenge to the assumptions of Western culture which he called ‘ deconstruction ’ , asked himself the same question. Problematically, Austin excludes dramatic speech from the performative utterances mentioned above. As noted by Michiel Leezenberg, Derrida therefore criticizes Austin ’ s account of speech acts because he thinks that Austin ’ s distinction between serious and pretended or fictional speech acts is rather strict. 21 After all, for Derrida, all speech acts can be reiterated in new contexts: Every sign, linguistic or nonlinguistic, spoken or written (in the current sense of this opposition), in a small or large unit, can be cited, put between quotation marks; in so doing it can break with every given context, engendering an infinity of new contexts in a manner which is absolutely illimitable . . . This citationality, this duplication or duplicity, this iterability of the mark is neither an accident nor an anomaly, it is that (normal/ abnormal) without which a mark could not even have a function called “ normal ” . What would a mark be that could not be cited? 22 (Derrida ’ s emphases) Moreover, Derrida claims “ Austin had to free the analysis of the performative [speech acts] from the authority of the value of truth [. . .] substituting for it the value of force ” 23 . This performative force of both the illocutionary and the perlocutionary utterances cannot be perceived as a natural effect of language produced by the will in or on others, but instead as convention, as Raoul Moati demonstrates: “ This efficacy of pragmatic force 163 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language has nothing natural about it; it is tied to the artificiality of rules that define the uses of language. ” 24 In the courtroom, for example, “ All rise! ” indicates that those present should stand up for the entrance of the judges. When the same sentence is heard in another public space, without the widespread convention specific to the courthouse, people will not be as likely to stand up. This example shows the importance of convention, and thereby the artificiality of linguistic signs. But how does this work in theatre? As we know, the ‘ willing suspension of disbelief ’ in theatre causes the spectator to believe what is depicted for the sake of enjoyment and absorption, as Fried would say. Therefore, when a performer in the role of a bailiff asks the crowd to rise, a highly theatrical confusing, and even disturbing, tension occurs. The spectators might look at each other, wondering whether they should follow this command and who will be the first to stand up. Here, absorption and theatricality merge into one: a familiar convention, the suspension of disbelief specific to the theatrical space, and a self-conscious convention together cause the attendees to stand up when the utterance “ All rise! ” is heard. Yet, in the end, the performance language in theatre will not achieve a similar effect to that of the performative language in court. Forasmuch as at the end of a performance everything goes back to normal, as the poet Wislawa Szymborska metaphorically indicates in her Theatre Impressions 25 : The dead raise from the stage ’ s battlegrounds Straightening their wigs and fancy gowns Removing knives from stricken breasts Taking nooses from lifeless necks Lining up among the living To face the audience. In Force de loi (1990), Derrida deepens his conception of law to describe its particular enforcement. He calls into question the transcendency of truth in general, especially in the context of justice, human rights and the rule of law. For Derrida, there is no such thing as transcendent truth, certainly not regarding justice in law. Instead, he suggests that a ‘ Mystical Foundation of Authority ’ characterizes jurisdiction: “ The justice of law, justice as law is not justice. Laws are not just as laws. One obeys them not because they are just but because they have authority. ” 26 In other words, we humans obey the rules of law not because of its value of truth, not because justice has to be done, but because of its coercive and punitive power. One might say that therein exactly lies the difference to theatre, as mentioned earlier. Although “ the very architecture proscenium stage and theater buildings offer a frame to reflect on the principles and machinery of inclusion and exclusion [. . .] theaters do not have the coercive power of law ” 27 . If a theatrical performance lacks state legitimacy and hence the power to declare a verdict, then its enforceability cannot be guaranteed by theatrical language. However, according to Cornelia Vismann, the court will always be determined by its theatrical set-up: Courts are stages not laboratories, albeit the ongoing phantasm of gaining an absolute certainty, the legal resistance to supposedly objective methods of truth-finding defends not only the existence of judges but in the end the theatrical dimension of courtroom-procedures as such. 28 Referring to Pierre Legendre, Vismann defines the trial as a “ ritual where a crime is given a place in language. ” Pointing at the courtroom as a stage where the crime is being re-enacted in a kind of theatre of justice, she argues that drama and trial are allies. 29 Furthermore, as set forth by Maxine Kamaria Clarke, the possibility of achieving justice implies the exercise of performance. 30 Clark argues that Derrida ’ s notion of false justice can be understood as a 164 Steff Nellis way to underline the idea that seemingly secular formations, like the courthouse, celebrating the absence of former more religious moralities are themselves mystical constructions, and thus social fictions. 31 Therefore, it can be useful to examine the artistic practices of contemporary artists who bring fictitious lawsuits to the stage. After all, if the courtroom, like theatre, creates nothing but social fictions, why then is a court ’ s verdict still more decisive than a theatrical one? Jurisdiction as performance language What happens when the two disciplines mentioned above merge? What happens when the theatre develops its own jurisdiction as performance language? Many contemporary artists are interested in these questions. Along the lines of the twentieth century documentary dramatists, contemporary directors especially focus on the use of documentary sources relating to jurisdiction, law procedures, and court proceedings. However, as much as these artists base their work on tradition, there are also significant differences. Current court case performances usually no longer rely on earlier subject matter from previous lawsuits as their predecessors did. Instead, they prosecute injustices committed by political institutions, companies or governments, which would have no place in our regular legal system. They also represent non-human entities on stage to lend a voice to the voiceless. So doing, stage directors move from a re-enacting principle to a pre-enacting method, as I have argued elsewhere. 32 According to an article by Francesca Laura Cavallo, these kinds of pre-enactments “ operate at the border between reality and fiction: creating fictionalized scenarios that toy with real fear, uncertainty and trust to invalidate strategies of governance and shift the wider population ’ s perception of risk. ” 33 Elaborating further on this definition, the ‘ rehearsal ’ of real court proceedings in theatrical tribunals might transcend the boundaries of the strictly staged reality. By reorienting the public ’ s perception of risk or their confidence about the future, they might even have direct implications in the social and political arena. 34 In other words, these alternative courts no longer focus on the past to draw lessons for the present, but rather on the present itself, the future or the imagination of their audience. What could the specific format and context of a theatrical performance concerning judicial matter add to the regular legal profession? Could the conventions of law, when translated to theatre and despite all differences, inspire the underlying legal system? After all, as Read argues, “ it is law that has to make a difference, while performance, despite any higher aspirations [. . .] has no responsibility whatsoever to change anything ” 35 . Although theatre lacks the coercive and punitive power inherent to law, legal speech acts may be iterated, as illustrated by Derrida 36 , and thus cited in other contexts without losing their performative aspects. Since the efficacy of pragmatic force is contextually bound, it is the conventions of a specific chronotope rather than its truth value that cause the performative outcome. Therefore, when contemporary artists present court proceedings and judicial topics in their performances, the conventions of the courtroom are inserted into a new, highly theatrical context, and yet they may not lose their performative impact on the spectators. However, because of theatre ’ s inability to declare a real verdict, stage directors look for new possibilities to expand the judicial into the theatrical sphere. In what follows, I shall introduce two performances that engage in this renewed tribunal trend in the performing arts in completely different ways. 165 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language 1. The Congo Tribunal 37 “ Je déclare ouvert le première session du Tribunal sur le Congo ” , declaims Jean-Louis Gilissen, lawyer at Den Haag Criminal Court and chairman of The Congo Tribunal, when he opens the court session. Before, the initiator, Milo Rau himself, speaks directly to the audience. He asks for silence, tells them the filming of the trial will start in a few moments, and sends a young man on to the stage to clap the filmsticks of a clapperboard together. So doing, Rau not only starts the three-day tribunal in Bukavu, but also stresses the theatrical character of the trial. In his gesture lies a theatrical paradox in which Rau, amongst others, strive for a reality effect by implementing court proceedings on stage whilst continuously stressing their fictitious character. However, the issues that are on trial are real, namely the examination of the economic, identitarian, governmental and geostrategic reasons for the war, the insecurity and the poverty in Eastern Congo. The conflict in Congo is one of the greatest economic wars of our time, but most European citizens are unaware of it. Triggered by the Rwandan genocide in 1994, the Congo War has already claimed over six million lives. What started as a civil war based on ethnic differences between peoples and nations has grown into a fight about political predominance in Central Africa and the export of minerals and raw materials for technology that are essential for twentyfirst century Europe. This conflict thus not only belongs to the Congolese citizens, but also to the international community, namely the European, American and Asian countries that are importing Congolese commodities. Although globalization and the interests of the great national economies can be seen as one of the main offenders in the crisis in Eastern Congo, the international community has refused to make an active response to the systematic attacks against the civil population. 38 In The Congo Tribunal, Milo Rau therefore aims to counteract the decades of impunity in the region of Eastern Congo by examining the causes and background of the conflict. So doing, he focuses on three different topics: the Banro case, an examination of the responsibility of multinational corporations and the World Bank for the relocation of local Congolese villagers by the mining companies, and the subsequent tribal war; the Bisie case, a questioning of the responsibility of the European Union and its member states for their problematic export of raw ‘ conflict ’ materials from Eastern Congo; and the Mutarule case, an investigation into the renunciation of responsibility by both the Congolese army and the United Nations troops in the 2014 massacre in Mutarule, a village close to the Rwandan and Burundi border, which left 35 people, including several young children, dead. 39 Rau ’ s transmedia art project consists of two three-day hearings in Bukavu and Berlin, a book, a documentary film (2017), an illustrated, interactive point-of-view narration given by one of the victims of the Mutarule massacre by means of virtual reality, and an educational website. Rau had previously already covered themes such as racism, social abuse and colonialism. In 2013, he staged two fictitious lawsuits in Zurich (The Zurich Trials) and Moscow (The Moscow Trials), respectively condemning a right-wing populist Swiss magazine, Die Weltwoche, of racism and discrimination, and the Russian government of significantly limiting artists ’ and curators ’ universal right to freedom of speech. When Rau again reached for the tribunal genre for The Congo Tribunal in 2015, he thus was well prepared. The three-day Bukavu Hearings form the heart of The Congo Tribunal. As a real courtroom session, its content is highly discursive: several testimonies from the various parties, including the government, the 166 Steff Nellis opposition, victims, witnesses, (former) rebels, farmers and miners, are heard; documentary videos of preliminary research visits by Rau himself and interviews with locals are shown; and, at the end of every day, the judges provide the audience with the chance to intervene or respond to what was discussed during the trial that day. The jury consisted of six members: Séverin Mugangu, Professor of Law at the Catholic University of Bukavu and the cabinet director for the governor of the province of South Kivu; Gilbert Kalinda, deputy of the province of North Kivu and a representative of the national and international mining companies, a firm believer in the efficiency of the mining industry; Colette Braeckman, Africa correspondent for the Belgian newspaper Le Soir, and an expert on the Congo War; Vénantie Bisimwa Nabintu, a Congolese human rights activist, born in Bukavu; Prince Kihangi, an attorney and expert on the management of natural resources in Congo; and Jean Ziegler, advisor to the United Nations (UN) Human Rights Council. With the exception of Ziegler, all the members of the jury took part in the crossexamination of the speakers. Ziegler was not permitted to attend the tribunal by the UN because of the fictitious nature of the trial and the assumption that the UN itself would be accused. Fig. 3: Juror Séverin Mugangu questions an anonymous witness (The Bukavu Hearings). © 2015 Fruitmarket, Langfilm & IIPM/ Mirjam Knapp. Before taking a seat, every speaker had to take the oath, swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. As in court, each witness had the right to speak in a Fig. 2: Milo Rau at an explorative film-shoot for The Congo Tribunal in a gold mine in Eastern Congo. © 2015 Fruitmarket, Langfilm & IIPM/ Eva-Maria Bertschy. 167 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language preferred language in order to be able to present a nuanced report. Therefore, two translators were employed to facilitate the conversation. Again, the importance of language is stressed: even in this fictitious court case the significance of nuance and accuracy cannot be underestimated because of the highly sensitive content under discussion. The diligence and prudence with which language was treated also stands out in Berlin where the performance was re-staged with another jury, mostly consisting of new members, that re-examined both the existing documentary materials and a recording of The Bukavu Hearings themselves. Yet the most promising discursive characteristic of a court session is lacking in both The Bukavu Hearings and The Berlin Hearings: the lawyer who advocates his*her client ’ s interests. This absence of defence arguments can be explained by the nature of The Congo Tribunal ’ s court proceedings. Its strategy resembles that of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), a court-like enterprise that focuses on restorative justice. The original TRC was established in 1996 and invited witnesses, victims, and their descendants, but also perpetrators who wanted to request amnesty for the attacks of violence and to give statements about their experiences relating to human rights violations. 40 The TRC hence offered reparation and rehabilitation to both victims and perpetrators by means of court sessions that focussed on the future instead of the past. This alternative form of jurisprudence stresses the importance of reconciliation in contrast to the normal, punitive legal system that seeks retribution. At the same time, one sees a theatrical attempt at rapprochement with the legal system by means of the appropriation of court proceedings on stage, but also a removal of its rigorous, punitive, and defined legal procedures. As already mentioned, language plays a decisive role in this: following the example of the TRC, Rau tries to keep the future in mind by highlighting the possibilities for reconciliation and affiliation between the different parties. In his tribunals, which can be seen as performances of dialogue and discussion, all parties and even the audience are involved in the debate. In this respect, the discursive aspect of these court case performances extends even further than the courtroom proceedings themselves: the non-binding, accessible character of Rau ’ s Congo Tribunal ensures all voices are heard. By stressing the importance of audience participation at the end of each day, Rau ensures that not only the witnesses, but also the opinions of the voiceless audience are incorporated into the debate. Yet, at the end of the interrogations, when Rau stresses the fictitious nature of his court session again, the question arises once more: In what way can theatre actually help to improve society? Fig. 4: Audience member in the open-mic discussion following the Bisie mine case (Bukavu Hearings). © 2015 Fruitmarket, Langfilm & IIPM/ Mirjam Knapp. 2. Voice of Nature: The Trial Maria Lucia Cruz Correia answers this question on a highly personal level. In the court case performance Voice of Nature: The Trial, Correia tries to restore the troubling relationship between Planet Earth and its inhabitants. Although she stresses several times that Nature does not want to be in court, she seems to feel the urge to use a state apparatus to stress the importance of the 168 Steff Nellis endeavour. In this particular performance, Correia prosecutes ecocide, a term referring to the crime of damaging, destructing or annihilating ecosystems by human agency. 41 By representing Nature in court as a victim of ecocide, she hopes to awaken the public and to make them aware of their own responsibility regarding climate change. After all, Correia seeks to show that our role in protecting the planet goes beyond the use of a ‘ Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail ’ disclaimer. Correia is a Belgian-Portuguese performance artist. Her work is characterized by a rigorous attention to the ecological challenges in contemporary society. According to Lieze Roels, “ Correia always seeks the most effective strategies to involve her spectators in environmental issues and encourage them to take action ” 42 . Besides many other works on climate issues, such as Boxes of Transciency #2 (2009), Children must not play on this site (2011), From Nature to Nature (2012), Urban Action Clinic (2015), We are sea Protecting itself (2016), and Vigil Earth (2017), all mainly artistic performances in which she acts as a climate activist herself, Correia had previously enacted a fictitious lawsuit. In The Age of Anthropocene: Evolutionary perspective on future law regarding climate change (2016), she sought to explore the possibilities of creating a new legislation for humans to adapt to the anthropocene, the age in which humankind has permanently changed the planet. This site-specific court case performance, in which Correia worked with climate experts, environmental criminologists and activists, was held in the conference room of the Ljubljana City Municipality and can therefore be seen as the ultimate prototype of Voice of Nature: The Trial. In order to represent nature in court, Correia proposes to approach ecocide and Fig. 5: Caroline Daish performing sound effects with natural elements in Voice of Nature: The Trial. © Mark Pozlep. 169 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language the way in which the spectators, as a collective, deal with climate justice, through seven ‘ attempts to represent nature ’ : Understanding law; Finding the accused; Connecting the crime in court; Witnesses of ecocide; Guardian of Nature; Dialoging with Nature; and finally, the draft of a restorative contract. These seven acts navigate between different forms of knowledge transfer. Two internationally renowned lawyers explain how ecosystems have been recognized as legal entities with their own rights in legislation and court decisions in other countries, such as New Zealand, Bangladesh, Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, India, Mexico City, Uganda, and even some councils, formed by two indigenous minority governments, the Ponca Tribe of Nebraska and The Ho-Chunk Nation, in the United States of America. Besides experts, documentary footage of a preliminary research stay shows testimonials of indigenous peoples who act as witnesses to ecocide. Moreover, Nature itself is present in court by means of representatives, which are, besides the attendees themselves, earth, water, a tree, vegetables, dead animals and other paraphernalia. Because of the use of these rather unconventional attributes, the setting of the courtroom is itself in transition: Instead of a defined number of rows, facing the defendant bench and the court, the seats form a large circle in which the spectators sit uncomfortably close to one another. Performer Caroline Daish presents herself as the host of the evening and welcomes all attendees by reading out their names. This simple act of calling out names instils a particular sense of awareness and involvement in the spectator. Thereby, the classic roles of the courtroom Fig. 6: Caroline Daish playing with a shell in a water tank in Voice of Nature: The Trial. © Mark Pozlep. 170 Steff Nellis are redistributed so that everyone is either judge, defendant, lawyer or guardian of Nature. In addition, Daish invites all spectators to participate in this court case performance and to rethink the judicial system together for the benefit of Nature. The community that is formed in this specific performance will have to search for solutions together without pointing the finger at a clear defendant. This results in a participatory performance in which spectators get in touch with each other, nature, and pollution, and finally, draw up a restorative contract in which every spectator lists what s/ he can do to restore the relationship between nature and nurture. Like Rau, Correia approaches the legal system in an unconventional way. On the one hand, again she uses courtroom proceedings in a theatrical performance in order to approximate real jurisdiction as closely as possible. As in The Congo Tribunal, lawyers and experts were consulted, and a long research process preceded the performance. Yet the play ’ s location is most exemplary: situated in the former Courthouse of Ghent, a bell rings to formally convene the court, inspectors write down the names of all attendees and the spectators have to open their purse or backpack before entering the building. Thereby, a deliberate tension is created. Moreover, when led into the courtroom itself through a side entrance, the spectators pass the cell in which the defendant usually waits for the trial to start. One cannot but wonder: Who is actually on trial today? On the other hand, Correia uses specific rituals, suggests applying restorative justice and paves the way for a non-Western perspective on enacting law. She focuses specifically on embodied knowledge by bringing the spectator into close contact with pollution, using earth, oil, vegetables and dead animals. Through this highly visceral Fig. 7: The performance ’ setting in the former courthouse of Ghent. Voice of Nature: The Trial © Mark Pozlep. 171 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language encounter with nature, the artist succeeds in representing the abstract ecocide in the concrete courtroom. Hence, if we acknowledge Jonas Bens ’ theory of the courtroom as the ‘ theatre of power ’ or an ‘ affective arrangement or atmosphere ’ in which the actors involved experience a specific affective relationality caused by the surroundings, Correia ’ s embodied approach might establish very ‘ affective dynamics ’ with regard to the spectators. 43 After all, it is important to note that Correia is not aiming for an immediate political effect of the climate case, but for an impulsive reaction on the part of the spectator: in her vision, the affective feelings of the spectator will indirectly influence the long-term effect of the performance. This method is characteristic of the artist, as stated by Christel Stalpaert: Instead of putting forward one solution, Correia negotiates the ever-ongoing constitution or composition of the world and calls upon a critical and wider view of environmental thinking [. . .]. [S]he calls upon an ethics of accountability and response-ability, rejecting dictated moral conduct. 44 As Stalpaert argues, Correia triggers in the spectator the ability to respond to the highly influential results of ecocide. Like Rau, she therefore presents interviews with inhabitants of places in which ecocide has a tremendous influence on their peoples, and asks experts to testify about these forms of injustice. However, where Rau depends especially on the power of jurisdiction itself, the mere act of cross-examination and testimonials, and thus court language, Correia adopts body language as a central aspect in the settlement of restorative justice. Jurisdiction as performative language According to Klaas Tindemans, “ theatre as an artistic genre is fascinated by law because the legal event [. . .] is never non-binding, in contrast to the performing arts. The courthouse changes lives, the theatre can at most wish for that ” 45 . As mentioned above, this argument is broadly drawn upon to describe the troubling relationship between law and theatre by a variety of scholars (e. g. Arjomand 2018; Read, 2016; Tindemans, 2019; and Vanhaesebrouck, 2015) 46 . Therefore, in this renewed tribunal trend within the performing arts lies a theatrical paradox. Theatre and performance artists strive for a reality-effect by presenting fictitious lawsuits, even though they lack the coercive and punitive power to enforce a real verdict. Jurisdiction as performance language can therefore be seen as a gratuitous gesture. After all, as the aforementioned poem by Szymborska states: “ The dead raise from the stage ’ s battleground ” and everything goes back to normal. In terms of J. L. Austin ’ s Speech Act Theory, performative speech acts such as the verdict in a courtroom lose their enforceability when transferred to the stage. Yet, Jacques Derrida rightfully claims that Austin loses sight of the dramatic sphere within his theory. According to Derrida, performative utterances can be reiterated in another realm without losing force. Derrida therefore defends a less strict dichotomy between serious and pretended or fictional utterances. Forasmuch as he believes the pragmatic force of speech acts are tied to artificiality, it is a courtroom ’ s statutory framework, “ a mystical foundation of authority ” and thus convention, rather than its natural force, which causes people to take laws, prohibitions and court rulings more seriously than theatre. 47 Thereby Derrida seems to suggest all speech acts, whether real or fictitious, can be seen as artificial linguistic signs, some of which are justified by an institutional system while others are not. However, this does not mean that fictitious lawsuits, such as the performances 172 Steff Nellis by Rau and Correia, cannot influence the wide-ranging public debates in which they are engaging. Although theatrical performances lack state legitimacy and hence the power to declare a verdict, their performative effect on the spectator can still cause a deliberate change, thus helping to improve society. But, as has been frequently discussed in this article, what could the specific format and context of a court case performance actually add to the legal profession? Milo Rau ’ s Congo Tribunal effectively illustrates the impact of a theatrical performance on reality. During the three-day trial in Bukavu, Rau himself expresses a great desire for the collected material to be taken seriously. He even mentions the possibility that his initiative might trigger real court hearings in the future. However fictitious his endeavour, Rau did manage to effect some changes in the province of South Kivu, albeit indirectly. In the absence of a real lawsuit that should have been set up by the international community, Rau brought together politicians, experts and witnesses in a quasiformal gathering. The Bukavu Hearings ended with a judgement against the Congolese government and the multinational raw material conglomerates operating in the region. The United Nations, however, were absolved of any direct complicity in the Mutarule massacre by the members of the Bukavu jury. Nevertheless, Rau ’ s intervention received a lot of attention in both national and international media. Thereby, international pressure eventually led to the resignation of the Interior Minister and the Minister of Mining of the South Kivu Province, who both featured in The Bukavu Hearings. Shortly after Rau ’ s performance, they were relieved of their duties. The Berlin Hearings convicted the World Bank and the EU in a second verdict, and in the aftermath of the trial, the chief investigator of The Congo Tribunal and lawyer at the International Court of Justice in Den Haag, Sylvestre Bisimwa, was involved in the establishment of a permanent court, modelled on the performance, to address the crimes committed in Eastern Congo to this day. Although Maria Lucia Cruz Correia ’ s Voice of Nature: The Trial had a great influence on the audience, the impact on reality seems less obvious. Indeed, the performance did not have the same outcome as Rau ’ s tribunal: no ministers were fired, no climate law was added to the constitution, and no permanent change in the treatment of non-human entities in the courtroom made it into parliament. This notwithstanding, the public was in awe of Correia ’ s strategy. A review of the performance is exemplary: Correia ’ s court case performance stuck in my mind, as the oil that stuck to my fingers when leaving the courthouse. Still, I got back in my car and, on the way home, I stopped at the gas station along the highway asking myself: “ Who actually is the murderer of Nature? ” 48 The very nature of Correia ’ s performance causes the spectators to question their daily routines, such as refuelling the car, eating meat or travelling abroad by plane. By means of embodied knowledge Voice of Nature: The Trial asks its spectators to question themselves. One ’ s presence is confirmed by one ’ s name being read out in the Fig. 8: The spectators get oil on their hands in Voice of Nature: The Trial. © Mark Pozlep. 173 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language court session; one participates in the performance by holding earth, oil, vegetables, and other organisms; one inscribes oneself into the outline of a restorative contract to become a ‘ guardian of Nature ’ ; and one speaks to fellow audience members during a post-performance drink. The performative outcome of the body language Correia deploys in this performance may not have the same consequences as Rau ’ s focus on testimonials, but both ways of dealing with injustices on stage seem equally useful. After all, no script is imposed on the witnesses, as was the case in most of the twentieth century courtroom dramas. This causes contemporary performers, and potential spectators-as-participants, to be more trustworthy, as is endorsed by Amanda Stuart Fischer who distinguishes between verbatim and testimonial theatre: Instead of being tied to a chronological retelling of what happened by way of an interview or court transcript, testimonial theatre enables a more mediative reflection on the magnitude of an event that has been lived through. Unlike verbatim theatre, which assumes the communicability and the transparency of the traumatic event, testimonial theatre can acknowledge its opacity and allow for the subject ’ s unknowingness and the fragmentary way the testimonial subject encounters an event. 49 Therefore, the enforcement of fictitious practices of court sessions lies in imagining new ways of dealing with injustices within the safe environment of the theatre. However non-binding, the performative outcomes of these court cases are never gratuitous. However entertaining, they have the ability to galvanize audiences, accuse state institutions, and incite dissatisfaction among the spectators, as Nicole Rogers argues: “ In this sense, the utterances in such theatrical performances are neither ‘ infelicitous ’ nor ‘ hollow ’” 50 . Jurisdiction used as performance language is therefore by no means less performative than a courtroom verdict; instead it is differently performative in its own theatrical way. Conclusion In the introduction to this article, I referred to the Miranda warning to stress the importance of language in court proceedings and the investigation that often precedes them. It is important for defendants to know their rights, but it is also important for you and me to know our rights. After all, besides COVID-19, the spring of 2020 brought global distress because of several cases of police brutality and violations of human rights. Protests that first arose in the United States in the wake of the death of two African Americans, Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, caused by American police officers, soon spread internationally in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. The images of the arrest, and subsequently the murder of George Floyd, show several bystanders asking the officers on what basis they are subduing their suspect. Moments later, their questioning become a pleading, while they try to stop the officer from kneeling on Floyd ’ s neck. Unfortunately, neither Floyd nor the bystanders were able to stand up for their rights. Therefore, it is time for all of us, the whole global community, to know our rights and to speak up when we face injustice. Let ’ s all rise! The theatrical endeavours depicted in this article show that performances can act as a facilitator for the circulation and visibility of unheard voices, practices, and knowledge. In troubling times of social distress and complex societal and political realities, judiciary language in theatre serves to enhance communication between people who may not always be willing to open up their gaze. Theatre thereby offers new ways 174 Steff Nellis to leverage justice, not least because of the ways in which the language of jurisdiction is adopted on stage. Whether it is used straightforwardly by means of testimonials and discussion or by alternative forms such as body language and a post-performance drink, language remains omnipresent on the stage in the postdramatic era, especially in court case performances. Textual archives and embodied repertoires strengthen each other in The Congo Tribunal and Voice of Nature: The Trial: respectively the horrifying images of a murdered baby from the Mutarule massacre, accompanied by his mother ’ s heart-wrenching testimonial, and the complex argumentation of Caroline Daish, followed by the spectator ’ s astonishment when viscous black oil and a range of organisms - including herbs, fruit and plants and even dead fish and an octopus - are placed in his/ her bare hands. The artistic format of the theatrical courtroom still raises questions to what extent the performing arts can actually contribute to the improvement of society. As I sought to explain, theatre may not have the same coercive and punitive power as law, but its capacity to bring to the stage contemporary issues and to imagine new ways of dealing with injustices by means of an alternative jurisdiction goes far beyond the capability of our general legal system which will always act within a limited regulatory framework. The specific genre of court case performances central to this article clearly shows that theatre can influence reality, whether directly or indirectly, or the way in which individual audience members approach this reality. This is one of the enchanting characteristics of the performing arts in general. As Hans-Thies Lehmann argues, the “ theatre affords the exemplary site for subjecting to interrogation the social energies that circulate ” 51 . From now on, enacting law will no longer be limited to the courthouse. The performing arts will also play a role in safeguarding justice, and jurisdiction will function both as performance and performative language. After all, the theatrical paradox frequently mentioned in this article also applies to the law. Theatre and performance artists use the language of jurisdiction to approach court proceedings, hoping to denounce injustice whilst knowing they will never reach the same degree of performativity. But jurisdiction as a specific type of language also falls short in real court sessions. While law is highly dependent on a specific discourse, the final purpose of a court hearing is to reenact the extra-linguistic truth that is, in fact, intangible. Like theatre, law thus also strives for an elusive outcome. The main difference, as pointed out by Derrida, lies only in convention: the arbitrary establishment of the institute whose verdict is considered legally binding. Theatre, however, consists precisely of that which law aspires to reach: the power of imagination. Approaching judicial matter from an artistic point of view may offer our legal system new ways of dealing with injustices and jurisprudence in general. In this way, the performing arts propose an alternative form of jurisdiction which hopefully causes its spectators not only to stand up for the judge ’ s entrance during a court case performance, but also to speak up when facing injustice. I repeat: Let ’ s all rise! Acknowledgments This article would not have been possible without Prof. Dr. Kurt Vanhoutte who was the supervisor of my master ’ s dissertation from which this article resulted. Thanks to the editors, the anonymous reviewers, as well as Liesje Baltussen and Sofie Moors for feedback on various parts. Discussions with Prof. Dr. Marett Leiboff and Prof. Dr. Karel 175 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language Vanhaesebrouck helped to shape and sharpen the argument. Notes 1 See Google Scholar, “ United States v. Plugh, 648 F.3 d 118, 127 (2 d Cir. 2011), cert. denied, 132 S.Ct. 1610 (2012) ” [accessed 17 May 2021]. 2 John Langshaw Austin, How to Do Things with Words, Oxford 1962. 3 Marett Leiboff, Towards a Theatrical Jurisprudence, New York 2020, ch. 2, par. 2. 4 Hans-Thies Lehmann, Tragedy and Dramatic Theatre, trans. Erik Butler, Abingdon 2016, p. 109 cited in: Leiboff, Towards a Theatrical Jurisprudence, ch. 7, par. 1. 5 Leiboff, Towards a Theatrical Jurisprudence, ch. 7, par. 10. 6 Minou Arjomand, Staged: Show Trials, Political Theater, and the Aesthetics of Judgment, New York 2018, p. 16; Alan Read, Theatre & Law, London 2016, pp. 36 - 37; Klaas Tindemans, Recht en tragedie: de scene van de wet in de antieke polis, PhD diss., Leuven 1995; Karel Vanhaesebrouck, “ Het onmogelijke theater van justitie ” , in: Karel Vanhaesebrouck, Christine Guillain and Yves Cartuyvels (eds.), De rechtbank een schouwtoneel: Het spektakel van het strafrecht in België, Tielt 2015, pp. 19 - 19. 7 Michael Fried, Absorption and Theatricality: Painting & Beholder in the Age of Diderot, Berkeley 1976, p. 104. 8 Laura Münkler and Julia Stenzel, “ Einleitung: Inszenierung und Recht - Funktionen, Modi und Interaktionen ” , in: id. (eds.), Inszenierung von Recht, Weilerswist-Metternich 2019, pp. 8 - 18, here: p. 8. 9 Paula Diehl, Performanz des Rechts, Berlin 2006. 10 Read, Theatre & Law, pp. 36 - 37. 11 Ibid., p. 50. 12 Ibid., p. 39. 13 Ibid., p. 12. 14 Kent D. Lerch, “ Vorwort ” , in: id. (ed.), Die Sprache des Rechts, Bd. 1, Berlin 2004, pp. V - VI, here: p. V. 15 In this study, Arjomand discusses the state of research on tribunals in theatre. She focuses mainly on the most important historical predecessors of today ’ s court case performances, as well as the differences between activist tribunals such as the people ’ s tribunals by Russell and Sartre. 16 Arjomand, Staged, p. 16. 17 Read, Theatre & Law, p. 15. 18 Austin, How to Do Things with Words, pp. 98 - 99. 19 Ibid., p. 6. 20 Ibid., p. 5. 21 Michiel Leezenberg, “ Power in Speech Actions ” , in: Ken Turner and Marina Sbisà (eds.), Pragmatics of Speech Actions, Boston 2013, pp. 287 - 312, here: p. 297. 22 Jacques Derrida, Margins of Philosophy, trans. Alan Bas, Chicago 1982, p. 320. 23 Ibid., p. 322. 24 Raoul Moati, Derrida/ Searle: Deconstruction and Ordinary Language, trans. Timothy Attanucci and Maureen Chun, New York 2014, p. 61. 25 Wislawa Szymborska, “ Theatre Impressions ” , in: Wislawa Szymborska, Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh (eds.), View with a Grain of Sand, New York 1995, pp. 67 - 68. 26 Jacques Derrida, “ Force of Law: The Mystical Foundation of Authority ” , in: Drucilla Cornell, Michel Rosenfeld and David Gray Carlson (eds.), Deconstruction and the Possibility of Justice, London, 1992, pp. 3 - 67, here: p. 12. 27 Arjomand, Staged, pp. 20 - 21. 28 Cornelia Vismann, “‘ Rejouer les crimes. ’ - Theater vs. Video ” , in: Cardozo Studies in Law and Literature 11/ 2 (1999), pp. 161 - 177, here: p. 171. 29 Ibid., p. 166. For more information about Vismann ’ s Legal Theory and Drama, see Peter Goodrich et al. (eds.), Derrida and Legal Philosophy, London 2008. 30 Maxine Kamaria Clarke, Fictions of Justice: The International Criminal Court and the Challenge of Legal Pluralism in Sub-Saharan Africa, Cambridge 2009, p. 147. 31 Ibid., p. 9. 176 Steff Nellis 32 Steff Nellis, “ Enacting Law: The Dramaturgy of the Courtroom on the Contemporary Stage ” , Lateral 10/ 1 (Spring 2021), https: / / csalateral.org/ ? p=8957&preview=1&_ppp=8 c0d554cd2 [accessed 17 May 2021]. 33 Francesca Laura Cavallo, “ Rehearsing Disaster. Pre-Enactment Between Reality and Fiction ” , in: Adam Czirak et al. (eds.), Performance zwischen den Zeiten. Reenactments und Preenactments in Kunst und Wissenschaft, Bielefeld, 2019, pp. 179 - 198, here: p. 193. 34 Ibid., p. 180. 35 Read, Theatre & Law, p. 32. 36 Derrida, Margins of Philosophy, p. 320. 37 For more information on Milo Rau ’ s theatrical tribunals, see: Robert Walter-Jochum, “ (P)Reenacting Justice: Milo Raus Tribunale als Theater der Empörung ” , in: Adam Czirak et al. (eds.), Performance zwischen den Zeiten, Berlin, 2019; Benjamin Wihstutz, “ Zur Dramaturgie von Milo Raus Theatertribunalen ” , in: Laura Münkler and Julia Stenzel (eds.), Inszenierung von Recht, Weilerswist-Metternich 2019, pp. 164 - 186; Sylvia Sasse, “ When the Director becomes a Spectator ” , in: Florian Malzacher (ed.), Not Just A Mirror: Looking for the Political Theatre of Today, Berlin 2015, pp. 151 - 155. 38 Milo Rau, The Congo Tribunal, http: / / www. the-congo-tribunal.com/ project.html# description [accessed 17 July 2020]. 39 For more information about the exact content of the hearings, visit http: / / www.thecongo-tribunal.com/ hearings.html [accessed 17 July 2020]. 40 Annelies Verdoolaege, Reconciliation Discourse: The Case of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Amsterdam 2008, pp. 1 - 2. 41 Maria Lucia Cruz Correia, Voice of Nature: The Trial, in: All Works, http: / / www.mluciacruzcorreia.com/ works/ the-voice-of-natu [accessed 13 July 2020]. 42 Lieze Roels, “ De natuur aan zet: Een ontstaansgeschiedenis van Maria Lucia Cruz Correia ’ s performance Voice of Nature: The Trial ” , in: Forum + 5/ 3 (2019), http: / / www. forum-online.be/ nummers/ herfst-2019/ denatuur-aan-zet [accessed 14 July 2020]. 43 Jonas Bens, “ The courtroom as an affective arrangement: analysing atmospheres in courtroom ethnography ” , in: The Journal of Legal Pluralism and Unofficial Law 50/ 3 (2018), pp. 336 - 355, here: p. 343. 44 Christel Stalpaert, “ Cultivating Survival with Maria Lucia Cruz Correia: Towards an ecology of agential realism ” , in: Performance research 23/ 3 (2018), pp. 48 - 55, here: p. 48. 45 Klaas Tindemans, “ De theatraliteit van het recht: Over aansprakelijkheid en consequenties in het hedendaagse ‘ gerechtstheater ’” , in: EtCetera 35/ 150 (2017), pp. 38 - 45, here: p. 39. 46 Arjomand, Staged, p. 16; Read, Theatre & Law, pp. 36 - 37; Tindemans, Recht en tragedie, Vanhaesebrouck, “ Het onmogelijke theater van justitie ” , pp. 19 - 19. 47 Derrida, “ Force of Law ” , p. 10. 48 Steff Nellis, “ The Voice of Nature: The Trial - Maria Lucia Cruz Correia. Een tragedie in acht bedrijven ” , in: Etcetera, 6 March 2019, https: / / e-tcetera.be/ voice-of-nature-the-trialmaria-lucia-cruz-correia/ / [accessed 17 May 2021]. 49 Amanda Stuart Fisher, “ Trauma, Authenticity and the Limits of Verbatim ” , in: Performance Research 16/ 1 (2011), pp. 118 - 119. 50 Nicole Rogers, “ The Play of Law: Comparing Performances in Law and Theatre ” , in: Queensland University of Technology Law and Justice Journal 8/ 2 (2008), pp. 429 - 443, here: p. 438, https: / / doi.org/ 10.5204/ qutlr.v8i2.52 [accessed 17 May 2021]. 51 Lehmann, Tragedy and Dramatic Theatre, ch. 7, par. 1. 177 All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre Christopher Balme (Munich) In this article I discuss the current Covid-19 crisis in relation to an intensified reflection about the future of theatre. The argument proceeds via a review of crisis theory to a discussion of recent research into futurity, especially the idea of prospection. Specifically, I shall examine the interrelationship between crisis and prognosis as it pertains to theatre and the performing arts. Material is drawn from a database currently being assembled within the framework of the research project “ Krisengefüge der Künste ” which is collating public discourse on how the pandemic is affecting the performing arts. A comparison is made between discourses in the UK and Germany which leads to some final reflections on how such discussions may impact on the institutional legitimacy of publicly funded theatre. The Covid-19 pandemic has produced a situation of suspension: an interruption of daily patterns, social contexts, work routines, closure of all venues and organisations dependent on intensive social contacts. We find ourselves in a predicament of extreme insecurity, which has, historically, always produced an intensified preoccupation with the future and an increased reliance on experts to guide us through these uncharted waters by means of their ability to forecast the future. The first great age of the expert was in the period immediately after the Second World War during the Cold War when the implications of atomic weapons became fully felt and the old playbooks of war and diplomacy no longer seemed relevant. Recently decried by populist politicians, the expert has returned in the shape of the virologist, epidemiologist, (the latter by definition dedicated to providing prognosis of how an illness may spread) and even the sociologist. Less publicly visible but no less intensive has been the discussion amongst theatre professionals and scholars about the long-term impact of the pandemic on the institutional foundations of the performing arts, especially in the publicly funded versions. The article examines the vigorous and multifaceted public discourse on the future of theatre. It begins with a discussion of the connex between crisis and future, especially in the writings of Reinhart Koselleck and moves to a review of recent research into scenarios and the different forms of investigating the future with a special focus on what is termed here ‘ prospection ’ . The empirical section draws on database currently being assembled within the framework of the research project “ Krisengefüge der Künste ” (in English: Configurations of Crisis in the Performing Arts) based at the Institut für Theaterwissenschaft of LMU Munich which is collating public discourse on how the pandemic is affecting the performing arts. 1 The project commenced in 2018, two years before the current crisis. On the basis of a comparison between discourses in the UK and Germany the article concludes with some reflections on how such discussions may impact on the institutional legitimacy of publicly funded theatre. The Future of Crisis The Corona or Covid-19 pandemic is by any definition a crisis: it has produced a situation of extreme insecurity and the calculation of Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 178 - 191. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0017 risk proves difficult as the virus mutates. The pandemic is an extreme case of an exogenous shock which has suspended, at least temporarily, large areas of activity: tourism, gastronomy, cinema, and practically all forms of live performance. The Chinese word for crisis, wéij ī ( 危机 ), is composed of two words or characters: wéi, meaning ‘ danger ’ , and j ī , which can be translated as ‘ chance ’ or ‘ opportunity ’ . In this idea of a ‘ dangerous opportunity ’ , we find an ambiguous tension in the concept of crisis that signals impending danger while at the same time pointing out avenues to productively use such risks to overcome the crisis. Etymologically, a crisis (Gr. κρίσις ) refers to a turning point in an illness, of which the outcome is either the patient ’ s recovery or death. A crisis contains therefore an element of peripeteia, and most definitions recognise crises as times of dramatic intensification, during which alternative courses of action are demanded. The semantics of crisis shift during the Enlightenment from the narrowly medical and legal to the more broadly historico-philosophical. German historian Reinhardt Koselleck argued that crisis is intimately bound up with a new way of conceptualising futurity that arose during the eighteenth century and the French Revolution: It is in the nature of crises that problems crying out for solution go unresolved. And it is in the nature of crises that the solution, that which the future holds in store, is not predictable. (. . .) The question of the historical future is inherent in the crisis. 2 It lies in the nature of crises, at least in a post- Enlightenment understanding of the term, that they lead to an intensified preoccupation with the future. The connection between crisis and prognosis, a particular form of futurity, is one that Reinhart Koselleck traces back to Rousseau ’ s Émile (1762). Koselleck argues that Rousseau develops the first usage of crisis in the sense, “ that emanates from a philosophy of history and also offers a prognosis of the future. ” This new use of the term was thus directed, according to Koselleck, “ against both an optimistic faith in progress and an unchanged cyclical theory ” . 3 From this new dualism, ‘ crisis ’ takes on the conceptual contours of its modern understanding. The post-enlightenment understanding of crisis is predicated on a diagnosis that the old system is moribund but the new future is not clearly defined. There is of course a significant difference between Rousseau's diagnosis of the ancien régime and today's situation of sudden suspension and interruption of almost all social and many economic activities. The common ground can be found in the analysis of underlying trends that are already virulent and suddenly come to the surface. The experience of crisis varies depending on the institutional system: the University for example has weathered the crisis in terms of its core activities - teaching and research - reasonably well (although some forms of research depending on participant observation and archival research have had to be suspended or at least significantly curtailed). Economically, however, it has been a different story. Those university systems dependent on a high percentage of fee-paying students, especially international students, have suffered disproportionately in comparison to those systems that are largely state funded. Most academics adapted to the new situation of online teaching: it was almost as though, because digitalised teaching materials were available, the switch to online transmission was a minor adjustment rather than structural change. The software (Zoom, Teams, Webex etc.) already existed. This was not the case, of course, for practical courses predicated on rehearsals, one-on-one teaching et cetera. From a Corona perspective, 179 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre education in the performing arts looks remarkably old-fashioned, not having changed much since the pre-modern period. 4 The switch to online meetings and conferences was also effected relatively quickly. In the light of ecological debates and concerns about carbon footprints, this was an innovation or reform waiting to happen. A reduction of conference activity to pure information and discussion under conditions of online surveillance is certainly a novum from which the conference industry may never recover. Currently, in May 2021, most countries find themselves in an interregnum, a liminal period of in-betweenness, where, as Victor Turner has taught us, change and innovation often take place. This crisis-induced interregnum has created a space of intensified reflection about the future. A research project is currently being constructed to address the question of how theatres have responded to the Corona crisis and, in a process of longterm participant observation and discourse analysis, will trace these responses. ≈ Our perspective is framed by neo-institutional theory. This means that certain terms and presuppositions from this research tradition guide our initial hypotheses. The overall question leading our collaborative research project is that of institutional transformation. We hypothesize that the current crisis will lead to an acceleration of existing structural problems: the ancient regime, to put it in Rousseauian terms, is ready for change and the covid-19 crisis may be the exogenous shock that will accelerate pre-existing predilections and expose structural fault-lines. This proposition that structural problems provide the basis for intensified reflection on the future entails moving into the area of prognosis, a dimension many scholars tend to avoid because of the absence of hard data. Nevertheless, it is undisputed that the future is a temporal dimension that is not only integral to modernity and its various temporal extensions (post-) modernity (Lyotard), liquid modernity (Bauman), reflexive modernization or second modernity (Ulrich Beck), or a globalization-driven hyper-modernity (Frank and Meyer) but is constitutive of it. 5 Whatever the preferred terminology, we are surrounded and determined by future-thinking based on calculations of some kind. Whether it is price of our insurance policies computated according to the mathematics of risk, the stock market with its futures trading, governments engaged in often clandestine modelling, or think tanks designing scenarios, all these terms reference the domain of the future. 6 When we look at theatrical institutions and how they have reacted to the Corona crisis we can already propose some provisional hypotheses: One might be that a prognosis of the post-covid era is framed by the theory of path dependence, which argues, in James Mahoney ’ s formulation, “ contingent events set into motion institutional patterns [. . .] that have deterministic properties ” . 7 These deterministic properties tend to mean that substantive institutional change is extremely difficult or slow. There are two main types of path-dependence. The first and probably most widely accepted are ‘ self-reinforcing sequences ’ , which refer to “ the long-term reproduction of a given institutional pattern. ” 8 The second kind are known as ‘ reactive sequences ’ . These are “ chains of temporally ordered and causally connected events ” . 9 Both lead, in different ways, to the phenomenon of institutional inertia, which suggests that organisations will do everything they can to retain, or return as quickly as possible to, the status quo. This is in fact the most probable outcome, even in or after a situation of crisis. When the majority of institutional stakeholders see no immediate advantage in changing the pre-existing regime then it is unlikely this will happen because 180 Christopher Balme the opportunity costs of substantive institutional change are too high or the political fallout too onerous. In this case the interregnum becomes quite literally a moment or period of suspended time when almost nothing of long-term significance happens. The paths laid out by previous practices and decisions are so clearly defined that any departure from them would require considerable courage, even foolhardiness on the part of an artistic director or minister of culture to depart from them. Our own discipline is a stakeholder in this process, inasmuch as fundamental theoretical precepts, especially the metaphysics of presence, work to send us back into the black boxes as soon as possible. 10 The second, more remote possibility is that some kind of substantive change will result from the interregnum, i. e. that the dynamics of path dependence will be curtailed. In this case, we need to theorize how we can examine the future scientifically. Broadly speaking, there are three main ways to envisage the future: prediction, forecasting, and prospection. A prediction is usually made without drawing on intersubjectively verifiable evidence (unless it is located in the entrails of a sacrificial animal, in the palm of your hand). Forecasting on the other hand is highly reliant on hard data and usually employs forms of specialist knowledge and techniques not available to the general public, like the weather forecast, economic ‘ business climate ’ indices, or epidemiological prognoses. The third possibility, prospection, which will be applied in the following examples, works mainly on the level of discursive analysis: a prospection singles out factors that are relevant in shaping the future and explores their interdependence. A prospection refrains from making final statements about the future, but instead indicates potentialities and tries to determine how current developments might play out in the future. 11 Prospecting in this sense means trying to indicate potentialities and possible developments in the future. It is a more hermeneutic analysis but still reliant on data and a mixed methods approach. Sociologists Mallard and Lakoff refer to prospecting as “ a set of practices for envisioning an unknown future ” and distinguish between “ constitutive rather than predictive prospection. ” 12 The aim is thus not to predict the future per se but rather to imagine possible futures in order to better understand and design policies in and for the present. Modelling the future of theatre: economics The first attempts to ‘ model ’ the future of the performing arts during the pandemic were already published in May 2020. These were scenarios by consultancies and constituted a form of forecasting, which is mainly interested in the economic effects of the crisis of cultural institutions. The Munich-based company, Actori, which specializes in arts and sports consultancy, developed scenarios regarding the economic effects of the lockdowns. In May 2020 it published a first report outlining possible scenarios of future developments, and brought out a revised version in October 2020. 13 The report is an example of forecasting or modelling, as it extrapolates from existing data. Drawing on the detailed statistics published by the Deutscher Bühnenverein (Theaterstatistik 2017/ 18), Deutscher Musikrat and the Statistisches Bundesamt Actori calculated possible losses in income and attendance depending on the length of the closures through lockdowns. The updated October report outlines three scenarios: l Scenario I - Recovery by spring 2021 181 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre l Scenario II - Normality as of 2021/ 22 season l Scenario III - Restrictions until end of 2021/ 22 season. By 1 October 2020, the report calculated, around 123,000 events are likely to have been cancelled by the institutions surveyed due to Corona. The loss of visitors amounted to around 70 million and the lost revenues added up to approximately 520 million euros. In Scenario III, the Corona-related revenue losses amount to around 2.1 billion by the end of the 2021/ 22 season. The focus was on theatres and opera houses, orchestras, festivals and museums. Some of the assumptions were already outdated by the time the reports were published (in May and October 2020). Viewed from the present (May 2021), Scenario III provides the most accurate calculation of the expected financial losses. The report concludes with a summary of chances and challenges for cultural institutions and their - in most cases - public sponsors (state or municipal authorities). The former are seen in the area of digital offerings and the possibilities of acquiring new audiences. The challenges are not just in a better calculation of financial knock-on effects but also in the demand for ‘ future strategies ’ . These are formulated explicitly in terms of ‘ scenarios ’ in order to better calculate the artistic, social and monetary effects of the Corona crisis. Although the scenarios developed are largely fiscal and based on forecasting, the conclusion makes clear that they can also be read in terms of ‘ constitutive ’ rather than predictive prospection, as proposed by Mallard and Lakoff. Another attempt at forecasting the longterm effects on the cultural sector was published by the Ernst&Young Consulting. The report was commissioned by GESAC, Fig. 1: Estimated losses due to Corona closures in the cultural and creative industries. Source: Rebuilding Europe, p.30. 182 Christopher Balme the European Grouping of Societies of Authors and Composers. 14 It begins with an affirmative picture of the cultural and creative industries, the CCIs, pre-Covid. The authors paint a picture of the cultural and creative industries as an economic heavyweight with a turnover of 643 billion euros. The estimated drop in turnover because of Covid-19 varies quite starkly by sector. But the most important calculation is that the performing arts are by far the hardest hit with a projected loss of 90 % across the EU- 28 countries. Of all the sectors, only the video games industry is projected to increase its turnover. 15 The Ernst&Young report can be located mid-way between forecasting and prospection, because it includes a considerable amount of qualitative data, mainly interviews and surveys, and conventional market research, in its findings. 16 While the EY report surveys European countries, the OECD attempted a global prognosis in September 2020, or at least the effects on its member states. Entitled Culture shock: COVID-19 and the cultural and creative sectors, this report provided a wide-ranging discussion of the cultural and creative sector (CCS) using similar assumptions to those of Ernst&Young regarding the size and vitality of the sector. It proposes that the medium to long-term effects will be all the more significant. Over the medium term it identifies the following problems: l the anticipated lower levels of international and domestic tourism, l drop in purchasing power, and l reductions of public and private funding for arts and culture, especially at the local level l downsizing of cultural and creative sectors will have a negative impact on cities and regions in terms of jobs and revenues, levels of innovation, citizen wellbeing and the vibrancy and diversity of communities. 17 In addition, the report argues that the crisis has “ sharply exposed the structural fragility of some producers in the sector ” . This means that the sector has a high number of “ microfirms, non-profit organisations and creative professionals, often operating on the margins of financial sustainability ” . 18 They have been particularly hard hit by the closures and in addition provide essential services for the larger public institutions. The report also identifies the frequent inadequacy of public Fig. 2: Turnover in the performing arts market in Germany calculated on the basis of a short, a long or two lockdowns. Source: Betroffenheit der Kultur- und Kreativwirtschaft, p.27. 183 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre support schemes for employees in the CC sectors. The large number of freelance, intermittent, and ‘ hybrid ’ workers, i. e. those combining salaried part-time work with freelance work, has meant that they often fall through the funding categories of support schemes. The long-term economic effects are calculated on the high probability that there will be a reduction in investment with reduced levels of cultural production, followed by a ‘ demand shock ’ , “ as consumers reduce their consumption of cultural and creative sector goods and services ” which could be further exacerbated by a reduction in public funding for the cultural and creative sector. 19 In February 2021 a scenario analysis was published by the Competence Centre Cultural & Creative Industries of the German federal government. This calculation is also based on three scenarios. In the first variant, a hard shutdown was calculated lasting until the beginning of March 2021. In the second case, the hard shutdown would last until the end of March. The third scenario includes a double hard shutdown with an early opening in March and renewed closures in April (Fig.2). 20 Compared to the pre-crisis year 2019, for example, the centre calculated a minus of up to 69 percent in turnover for the performing arts. The figures are similarly dramatic for the music industry (minus 59 percent) and the arts market (minus 61 percent). Prospecting the future of theatre When the first lockdown was implemented in Germany in March 2020 leading to the closure of all theatres, the research group in Munich began collecting the numerous articles that resulted as a response. It became quickly obvious that this once-in-a-century situation was generating an unprecedented discussion in the theatrical public sphere. While the focus was on the situation in German-speaking countries, press in other parts of the world was also sampled. Entries were and continue to be collected in a Zotero database. It is by no means exhaustive but certainly represents a cross-section or sample of current thinking in terms of institutional transformation. The database currently lists around 600 items, mainly newspaper and magazine articles but also web entries, blogs, videos, commentary reflecting on the unravelling crisis, gathered in real time as it were. The first entry dates back to March 2020. Each article is tagged according to key words so that we can conduct preliminary surveys of recurrent topics before diving deeper into the content of the articles. We survey articles mainly from Germany and the UK, but also include some items from Italy, France, Denmark, and the Netherlands. The immediate and not surprising observation is the sheer amount of prose generated, a veritable discursive explosion, as a whole profession was essentially drydocked and had time to reflect. It quickly became clear that next to the immediate pressing problems regarding loss of work, reopening, aid packages for the arts etc., a major topic of discussion pertained to the future of theatre. Approximately 25 % of all entries refer to financial implications of the crisis which contain an implicit future dimension: calculation of income, job losses and closures. Over a quarter of the entries currently reference the future in some way. Futurity can mean the immediate future, i. e. speculation on the re-opening of theatres, but often it was of a much more fundamental nature and referenced the institutional forms of the current theatrical landscapes. While the future features prominently across the media discussion in various countries, the way the future of theatre is envisaged differs considerably. The prelimin- 184 Christopher Balme ary hypothesis is that the degree of openness for change is dependent on the institutional structure of the theatre system. Those that are strongly path-dependent such as the German system will be resistant to substantive transformation, whereas systems such as that in the UKwith a higher reliance on a mix of box office, sponsorship and project funding have generated a more volatile discussion in terms of institutional transformation. Comparison of UK and Germany In June 2021 The Stage, the UK ’ s most important theatrical trade publication, published a selection of articles entitled “ Theatre 2021: ‘ Back soon . . . back better ’” , in which “ changemakers across the industry ” were invited to think about the future of the sector. 21 Twenty-eight short articles charted possible future paths for the theatre sector or ‘ industry ’ as it is known in the UK. The topics ranged from campaigner Sarah Jackson on parents and carers to former Conservative minister Ed Vaizey (or rather Baron Vaizey of Didcot to give him his proper title) reflecting on theatre and government. In the light of such titles it is little wonder that there was also an article on class as well as several on diversity. The twentyeight articles can be grouped under seven broader rubrics: Labour and health; support and policy; audiences and diversity; technology; education and training; spaces; ecology. Three groupings stand out: seven articles are devoted to labour and health, six each to support and policy, and audiences and diversity. Digital technology, a topic one might have expected in the middle of a pandemic that has driven large sections of the population inside and online for business and for pleasure - has only three articles. Topics and issues that were already virulent before the pandemic (in the UK class and diversity for example) become repurposed for the new situation, where an already existing discourse is exacerbated. These twenty-eight articles reflect only one issue of the magazine which appeared in late June 2020. Since the outbreak of the pandemic there have been numerous other contributions covering topics such as embracing slowness to more pessimistic assessments of the long-term effects on self-employed artists. The closest equivalent in Germany to the 28 articles in The Stage were published in a volume entitled Lernen aus dem Lockdown? Nachdenken über Freies Theater (in English: Learning from the lockdown? Reflections on independent theatre). 22 As the title indicates, the main focus is on the independent sector, which has been especially hard hit by the total shutdown of all live performance. The independent theatre sector, known in Germany somewhat colloquially as the ‘ Freie Szene ’ has traditionally positioned itself discursively as a countermodel to the state and municipal ensemble and repertoire system (the famous Stadt- und Staatstheater). That this is often more a rhetorical gesture than a reflection of artistic practice, which has seen numerous initiatives over the past years to integrate the two groups, does not mean that the rhetoric decreases in intensity. When there is engagement with the broader theatrical system, then it is articulated often in a utopian mode of total rejection, a call for a clean slate. For example, the curator and dramaturg Stefanie Wenner reflects in her essay entitled “ Atempause wo sich das Leben Bahn bricht ” (in English: Breathing space: where life breaks free ” ) on a theatre that does not yet exist. The essay is a kind of riff on the notions of Pause (pause, break, interruption) and pose. Theatre itself can be a pose of the bourgeoisie, a culture whose break-up in the absolute sense may have come. For this theatre was 185 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre based on contracts and conventions whose disappearance we need not mourn . . .. What we do now, what practices we establish here, can become a blueprint (Blaupause) and the basis of a new theatre culture of the coming together of human and non-human bodies, a celebration of the present, appreciative participation, pause as liberation. 23 Envisioning a theatre whose time has come, which has outlived its usefulness, is a trope theatre historians are familiar with: we find it in the writings of the fin-de-siècle theatre reformers such as Adolphe Appia, Georg Fuchs, and Edward Gordon Craig, in Brecht ’ s critique of bourgeois Aristotelian theatre or Artaud ’ s even more radical call for a Theatre of Cruelty. All these models are predicated on notions of the tabula rasa, the clean slate of new beginnings, arguably one of the most powerful tropes of modernity whether in the arts, architecture or politics. The embrace of digital technology, for example, is one of the more emphatic stances we find in the independent scene which implies a critique of entrenched positions. For example, in the article by Michael Annoff und Nuray Demir, “ Showcase im Splitscreen: Video Messages to the Dominant Culture ” : In the silence of the home office, old audience development dreams are awakened, in which new groups of visitors are won over without having to change themselves . . .. But theatre will only emerge stronger from the crisis if it starts from scratch: with its programming and its dramaturgies. In 2018, The Carters shot their "APES**T" video at the Louvre and quickly had more clicks than the museum had visitors all year. 24 To date 233 million views on YouTube suggest indeed that a rap video filmed in a high culture temple finds more interest than a production from the independent performance scene, although the refrain, - “ Have you ever seen a crowd going apeshit ” - , sounds somewhat nostalgic in the current situation of worldwide lockdowns. Their point is that the video is a beautifully filmed and iconographically hugely resonant work referencing numerous memes and tropes of Black Culture, which demand exegesis using the tools of performance analysis. As the authors put it: “ Mona Lisa had to settle for the role of an extra, like an aging silent film star. ” 25 There is also a definite pessimistic undertone in their argument: “ In the 2020 crisis, TikTok dances go through the roof. The audience figures for the lockdown programmes of German-language cultural institutions, however, are languishing in double figures. ” 26 Can this discrepancy be bridged? The tension between the past and the future is framed in The Carters video as a form of Afrofuturism, and as a more universal digital future, a theme that runs through the collected essays like a red thread. It is a tension that remains unresolved, intentionally so, as the exponents of the metaphysics of presence defend positions against or in contrast to the advocates of the digital future. The entries in the database make clear that the semantic field of digitality, streaming and digital theatre is a dominant theme together with the future of labour in a reconfigured theatrical landscape. Whereas the former is primarily an optimistic scenario (although there are of course detractors), the area of work and labour is determined by anxiety and uncertainty. The semantic field of digitalisation returns over 140 items, about 25 % of the references in the database. Work and labour on the other hand are referenced in almost 250 items and constitute by far the most dominant topic in the entries. More precise content analysis still needs to be done, but already we can observe a massive insecurity and also discursive intensity around the future of work in the performing arts. This topic, perhaps even more than digita- 186 Christopher Balme lisation, was already virulent before the pandemic but has taken on a new urgency. It is one thing to be underpaid for one ’ s labour, it is quite another to be deprived of that labour for the foreseeable future. Legitimation Legitimation or legitimacy are not words that feature extensively in the articles, podcasts and blogs as explicit terms. These are tags that we have assigned ourselves: in the language of cultural anthropology it is an etic and not an emic category, it is the language of scholarship, not necessarily of the natives themselves. The natives being in this case the artists and journalists leading the discussion. From the point of view of neo-institutional theory, however, legitimacy is pivotal for conceptualizing the future. As the sociologists Jeanette Colyvas and Walter Powell state: “ Legitimacy is perhaps the most central concept in institutional research “ . 27 It is essential because notions of legitimacy comprise the glue that holds together institutional frameworks, which are by definition, abstract belief systems rather than nuts and bolts bureaucracies or companies, for which neo-institutional theory employs the term ‘ formal organisation ’ . In a seminal article, John Meyer and Brian Rowan describe institutions in terms of myths that organisations employ to underscore their importance, which often translate as need for government support: “ Organizations under attack in competitive environments [. . .] attempt to establish themselves as central to the cultural traditions of their societies in order to receive official protection ” . 28 Institutional myths masquerade as rationalized and impersonal rules that try to appear as technical necessities. Any theatrical system that lays claim to government support through subsidy is involved in and indeed dependent on mythmaking in this sense. The way in which organisations acquire and secure recognition and power is one of the central insights of institutional theory. Whether legally sanctioned, morally authorised or as part of shared cultural and cognitive frameworks, institutions emerge and solidify through legitimation processes. They are self-reproducing systems of rules that are rarely questioned because they are embedded in cultural practices and ideas. The German city and state theatre system is the result of such a process. 29 Less often described and researched are those legitimation processes in which social regulations and norms are no longer selfevident and therefore no longer enjoy the status of “ taken-for-grantedness ” (Colyvas/ Powell). They amount to the opposite tendency, delegitimation, in which institutions lose support and acceptance, a development that in the worst case can lead to institutional failure. 30 Delegitimation describes a process of questioning that can undermine the existing legitimacy of institutions. It can be initiated through discursive procedures, which can result in more far-reaching measures, ranging from reduction or cancellation of subsidies to the complete closure of organisations or reallocations of funding budgets. When the myths no longer hold or become questioned, we can speak of crisis. Crises of legitimation are characteristic of modernity as a whole, as Jürgen Habermas diagnosed already in 1973. 31 Even before the pandemic, theatre in many countries was embroiled in a legitimacy debate: many of the interlocutors came from within the system, or from the margins, as we saw in the contributions from the German independent theatre scene. The arguments are manifold and by no means consistent across theatrical cultures. The common denominator is less a financial argument, i. e. subsidy being a waste of taxpayers ’ money, than the question of impact. Just as universities are being coerced 187 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre into proving the ‘ impact ’ of their research, which translates roughly as producing some kind of social good, so too is publicly subsidised theatre also being slowly shifted towards this discursive territory. In Germany for example the term ‘ urban society ’ (Stadtgesellschaft) has created pressure on city theatres to address this somewhat amorphous entity: the implication being that the traditional subscriber audiences are not representative of a diverse urban society. It is noticeable that theatres are expanding their range of activities beyond the presentation of plays in order to secure their legitimacy in a diverse urban society. They want to become ‘ third places/ spaces ’ where a heterogeneous population can meet and form a new urban society through shared aesthetic and cultural experiences. In addition, theatres are increasingly using their expertise and resources in urban projects, in the sense of being a catalyst for communitybuilding processes and cultural urban development. In this context, newly focused stakeholders, especially those parts of the urban society that have so far been excluded in many cases from theatre, are currently receiving special attention. The pandemic has produced extreme manifestations of this trend, especially in the UK. There theatres have been repurposed as social centres or even vaccination points. Artistic directors have been proud to point to this new demonstration of social relevance. For example, Natasha Tripney, reviews editor of The Stage, asks whether Covid has sparked “ positive changes in the industry ” : Many regional theatre companies have become vital resources, maintaining engagement with older and more vulnerable members of the community, and keeping people connected even during a time of isolation. Some, like Slung Low, have gone that step further, with Leeds City Council making it the lead organisation in coordinating community care in its local area, providing food and support to those most in need. 32 Steve Tompkins mused in his contribution for Theatre 2021 on a theatrical Green New Deal: What if our theatre spaces are also teaching spaces, information exchanges, neighbourhood hubs, health centres, nurseries, libraries, pubs, citizens advice bureaus, counselling drop-in centres and local shops? What if the theatre economy runs its own local food-growing network and rewilding projects? 33 The example of Slung Low in Leeds is framed as an example of ‘ positive change ’ and Tompkins is definitely advocating a form of radical change if theatres also double as health centres, garden nurseries and libraries. From the point of view of delegitimisation, it could be seen as the exact opposite. One could argue theatres are ultimately just buildings, third spaces that can be repurposed into anything the situation demands. In the past theatres were converted into cinemas, then car parks or shopping malls, commercially more viable uses of expensive real-estate. Occasionally they have been converted back to their original function under pressure from cultural heritage arguments. It is possible that in the not-to-distant future, cultural heritage will be theatre ’ s most important and reliable discursive anchor. In Germany, a similar trend is underway, although it tends to still be on the level of ‘ projects ’ rather than part of its core activities. German theatre-workers are still public employees under contract to produce art and who continue their work in this area, rehearsing, designing, directing, perhaps for a digital performance, perhaps for that distant light at the end of the tunnel when the theatres reopen for the time when flesh-andblood spectators stream back in. 188 Christopher Balme In the more volatile institutional framework in the UK the relentless critique concerning deficiencies in diversity (race, class, gender,) and social relevance, has the potential to accelerate institutional delegitimisation. The theatre's struggle for recognition as an art form and not just as a form of entertainment, which theatre basically achieved by the mid-20th-century by embracing modernist principles, is now under pressure from within and without. Under normal conditions this would be an exceptionally slow, incremental process. But under the conditions of an extreme exogenous shock, there is a real danger or, depending on your perspective, there exists real potential that the process will be accelerated. Outlook Discussions of legitimacy are perhaps the most ambivalent of the many topics and fields that have emerged during the course of the pandemic. The social turn in theatre is of course a topic that well predates the Corona crisis. The redefinition of art in terms of its social function has been as extensively critiqued as it has been advocated. 34 The pandemic has provided a context in which, for some theatres at least, social work and support have become the only functions they have been permitted to exercise. Once peripheral, even marginal activities on a project basis, these activities have been redefined as a primary function. But does repurposing theatre as a local cultural centre, nursery, or library, to say nothing of a second-hand shop or vaccination point, seriously delegitimise the theatre? As an art form narrowly defined it probably does, for those engaged in applied theatre, the question is probably more difficult to answer unequivocally. What our research has demonstrated thus far is that the theatre itself as a sector or industry or art form (the appellations are by no means synonymous) is undergoing a process of pronounced uncertainty. This concerns both the livelihood of its practitioners, the labour involved, as well as the aesthetic principles on which it has based its claims for legitimacy, namely the metaphysics of presence. There are few arguments for the legitimacy of theatre, especially in its subsidised public version, that do not emphasize the centrality of the here and now, the irreplaceable experience of liveness, and the social good that comes of audiences gathering to watch a performance together. Some even argue that this is a rehearsal for democracy. 35 The crash course in digitalisation that many theatres have undergone has underlined that mediated performances are certainly possible, although not perhaps preferable. This recognition will probably have swifter and more profound ramifications for the cinema than for the theatre, but the latter also needs to envisage a future which is, if not entirely, then most probably, partially digital. In this paper, I have demonstrated a form of prospecting, a methodology where a combination of statistical calculations and discourse analysis can contribute to a focalisation of concerns and thereby help to define possible futures. That they may not be iridescently bright is a risk that all fortune tellers are aware of. But even the apparent darkness at the end of the tunnel may hold surprises. Notes 1 See https: / / www.krisengefuege.theaterwissen schaft.uni-muenchen.de/ index.html. [accessed 6 May 2021]. 2 Reinhart Koselleck, Critique and Crisis: Enlightenment and the Parthogenesis of Modern Society. Oxford/ New York 1988, p. 127. 3 Reinhart Koselleck, “ Crisis ” , in: Journal of the History of Ideas 67/ 2 (2006), pp. 357 - 400, here: p. 372. 189 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre 4 See for example the survey conducted by the THE on online teaching which showed that more than three-quarters of those surveyed “ would like online meetings to endure beyond the pandemic ” , with over 50 % wanting the retention of online lectures and conferences. The number in favour of online seminars and exams on the other hand was significantly lower, just over 30 %. https: / / www.timeshighereducation.com/ features/ times-higher-educations-digital-teachingsurvey-results [accessed 6 May 2021]. 5 See for example, Jean-François Lyotard, La condition postmoderne, Paris 1979; Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Modernity, Cambridge 2000; Ulrich Beck et al. Reflexive Modernization: Politics, Tradition and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, Stanford 1994; David John Frank and John W. Meyer, The University and the Global Knowledge Society Princeton 2020. 6 These terms are by no means synonymous but reference discrete strategies using different methods. Risk calculation goes back at least as far as the origins of the insurance industry in the late seventeenth century. The futures commodity market emerged at roughly the same time in the Dutch Republic and gave rise to the infamous tulip mania. Modelling is a technique whereby computers are fed data to demonstrate possible outlines based on several variables. Scenarios tend to be more ‘ imaginative ’ in the sense that they are less constrained by existing data and sketch out ‘ alternative worlds ’ , which serve in turn to help planning. On risk, see Peter L. Bernstein, Against the Gods: The Remarkable Story of Risk, New York 1996. 7 James Mahoney, “ Path Dependence in Historical Sociology ” , in: Theory and Society 29/ 4 (2000). Pp. 507 - 48, here: p. 507. 8 Ibid., p. 508. 9 Ibid, pp.508 - 509. 10 By ‘ metaphysics of presence ’ I mean the insistence on the here and now, the experience of liveness as the ineluctable ontology of performance. We find it formulated in many different contexts (Peggy Phelan, Unmarked: The Politics of Performance, New York 1993; Erika Fischer-Lichte, The Transformative Power of Performance: A New Aesthetics, London, 2008; Hans Ulrich Gumbrecht, Production of Presence: What Meaning Cannot Convey, Stanford 2004; most recently Willmar Sauter, Aesthetics of Presence, Newcastle upon Tyne 2020. Most discussions tend to draw a sharp, even binary distinction between performance as presence and mediation as non-performance. 11 Christian Dayé, Experts, Social Scientists, and Techniques of Prognosis in Cold War America, Socio-Historical Studies of the Social and Human Sciences, Cham 2020, p. 10. 12 Grégoire Mallard and Andrew Lakoff, “ How Claims to Know the Future Are Used to Understand the Present Techniques of Prospection in the Field of National Security ” , in: Charles Camic, Neil Gross and Michèle Lamont (eds.), Social Knowledge in the Making, Chicago 2011, pp. 339 - 77, here: p. 339. 13 https: / / www.actori.de/ fileadmin/ PDF_PPT_ DOC_XLS/ Corona_Studie_-_actori.pdf and the October update: https: / / www.actori.de/ fileadmin/ PDF_PPT_DOC_XLS/ 201001_ Corona_Studie_Update.pdf[accessed 6 May 2021]. 14 Rebuilding Europe: The Cultural and Creative Economy Before and After the COVID- 19 Crisis, ed. Ernst & Young, commissioned by The European Grouping of Societies of Authors and Composers (GESAC), January 2021, https: / / www.rebuilding-europe.eu [accessed 6 May 2021]. 15 See also the OECD report, Culture shock: COVID-19 and the cultural and creative sectors, published in September 2020. The focus here is mainly on employment. http: / / www.oecd.org/ coronavirus/ policy-responses / culture-shock-covid-19-and-the-culturaland-creative-sectors-08da9e0e/ [accessed 6 May 2021]. 16 McKinsey also published a report in July 2020 entitled Europe ’ s digital migration during COVID-19: Getting past the broad trends and averages. Clearly the business or task of forecasting has fallen mainly to the consultancy firms, who can draw on established practices and methods to provide at least some kind of forecast of probably effects and trends. 190 Christopher Balme 17 Culture shock, p. 2. 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid., p.3. 20 Themendossier. Betroffenheit der Kultur- und Kreativwirtschaft von der Corona-Pandemie: Ökonomische auswirkungen 2020 & 2021 anhand einer Szenarioanalyse (19. 02. 2021). https: / / kreativ-bund.de/ wp-content/ uploads/ 2021/ 03/ Themendossier_Betroffenheit_ KKW2021.pdf [accessed 6 May 2021]. 21 See https: / / www.thestage.co.uk/ features/ thea tre-2021-back-soon-back-better [accessed 6 May 2021]. 22 Haiko Pfost et al. (eds.), Lernen aus dem Lockdown? Nachdenken über Freies Theater, Berlin 2020. 23 Stefanie Wenner, “ Atempause wo sich das Leben Bahn bricht ” , in: Pfost et al. (eds.), Lernen aus dem Lockdown? , Berlin. 2020, Kindle Edition, pp. 13 - 14. 24 Michael Annoff and Nuray Demir, “ Showcase im Splitscreen: Videobotschaften an die Dominanzkultur ” , in: Pfost et al. (eds.), Lernen aus dem Lockdown? , Berlin, Kindle Edition, pp.16 - 22, here: p. 17. 25 Ibid. 26 Ibid. 27 Jeanette Colyvas and Walter W. Powell, “ Roads to Institutionalization: The Remaking of Boundaries between Public and Private Science ” , in: Research in Organizational Behavior 27 (2006), pp. 305 - 53, here: p. 308. 28 John W. Meyer and Brian Rowan, “ Institutionalized Organizations: Formal Structure as Myth and Ceremony ” , in: The American Journal of Sociology 83/ 2 (1977), pp. 340 - 63, here: p. 348. 29 See here Christopher Balme, “ Legitimationsmythen des deutschen Theaters: Eine institutionsgeschichtliche Perspektive “ , in Birgit Mandel and Annette Zimmer (eds.), Cultural Governance: Legitimation und Steuerung in den darstellenden Künsten, Wiesbaden 2021, pp. 19 - 42. 30 See for example, Christine Oliver, “ The Antecedents of Deinstitutionalization ” , in: Organization Studies 13/ 4 (1992), pp. 563 - 88. 31 See Jürgen Habermas, Legitimationsprobleme im Spätkapitalismus, Frankfurt am Main 1973. 32 Natasha Tripney, ‘ New Horizons: Has Covid Helped to Spark Positive Change in the Industry? ’ , in: The Stage, 21 January 2021 <https: / / www.thestage.co.uk/ long-reads/ long-reads/ new-horizons-has-covid-helpedto-spark-positive-change-in-the-industry? utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=4%2E%20Newsletter> [accessed 6 May 2021]. 33 Steve Tompkins, ‘ Theatre 2021: Steve Tompkins On . . . a Green New Deal ’ , in: The Stage, 24 June 2020 <https: / / www.thestage.co.uk/ features/ features/ theatre-2021-steve-tompkins-on-a-green-new-deal> [accessed 6 May 2021]. 34 See here the writings of art critic Claire Bishop, especially, “ The Social Turn: Collaboration and Its Discontents ” , in: Artforum, 2 (2006), pp. 178 - 83; and Claire Bishop, Artificial Hells. Participatory Art and the Politics of Spectatorship, London 2012. 35 See for example Simon Goldhill who makes the argument for ancient Greek theatre in “ The Audience of Athenian Tragedy ” , in: P. E. Easterling (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Greek Tragedy, Cambridge 1997, 54 - 68. David Wiles makes a similar argument in connection with the concept of citizenship in his study Theatre and Citizenship: The History of a Practice, Cambridge 2011. Indeed much of the discussion on theatre and citizenship makes this connection explicitly. 191 Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre Themenheft: Text, Image, Performance herausgegeben von Jan Lazardzig Editorial Jan Lazardzig (Berlin) This volume sets out to discuss critical approaches to theatre and performance historiography. The focus lies on the pivotal role text, image and performance play in the production of historical knowledge. Epistemic conceptualizations of text, image and performance are at work in many ways in contemporary historiographies of theatre and performance - oftentimes in the form of discrete presuppositions. Where text stands in for traditions, genres and practices of written and codified knowledge, which is often seen as stable, reliable and archivable, performance marks its opposite, i. e. the ever fleeting, elusive and traceless moment, prone to be forgotten. Image, in this regard takes an intermediary position, both univocal and definite as well as illusive and deceptive. Not only within theatre and performance studies, but also in many other disciplines, text, image and performance (and their concomitant concepts) are to be understood as mutually dependent ways of practising, knowing and archiving culture: whether it is the distinction of oral, visual and scriptural cultures, the relation of archival / colonial and embodied memories, or the difference between tacit and codified knowledge. The aim of this volume is to come to a more nuanced and reflected historiography of theatre and performance by means of identifying and historicizing the specific materiality, mediality and epistemic agency of text, image and performance. Wherein lies the historic specificity and relationality of text, image and performance? And how does it play out in the production of historical knowledge? How can we think of new historiographies of theatre and performance beyond established conceptualizations of text, image and performance? From a methodological perspective, questions of translatability and codifiability, as well as experiences of loss, suppression and forgetfulness are also of supreme interest to the authors of this volume. The separation of text and performance has often been described as a touchstone for the development of both theatre and performance studies. Whereas theatre studies, departing from literary and drama studies, sought to conceptualize historiographies of performance rather than drama and text, performance studies took off from historiographical conceptualizations of culture as text in diverse fields of knowledge (such as ethnography, anthropology, cultural studies) to divert its analytical focus to everevolving cultures of performativity. Ever since, dichotomous epistemologies of text vs. performance (textuality vs. performativity) have determined historiographies of theatre and performance. This volume sets out to critically dissect these manifest epistemologies both historically and historiographically. Hence, the case studies presented in this volume are meant to reflect the historicity of text, image and performance in terms of new approaches to the historiography of theatre and performance. Two highly popular forms of 16 th century confessional drama, the Protestant Passion Play and the Catholic Saint Play, are at the centre of the contribution by Claudia Daiber and Elke Huwiler. The authors ask how “ the biblical text and, with it, history itself, [is] being negotiated on stage by means of performative strategies ” . They argue that play text and performance reflect Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 195 - 197. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0018 conflicting methods of Bible exegesis and antagonistic forms of liturgical rites. The stage turns into a site of religious knowledge production where “ the right denomination and moral behaviour ” are conveyed to the citizens in actu. Though Luther and Melanchthon both approved the pedagogical use of Passion Plays, mediating faith through education, theatre remains a highly contested medium among Protestant authors in the 17 th and 18 th centuries. François Lecercle and Clotilde Thouret, who jointly directed the research project La haine du théâtre (Hatred of the stage), collected and analysed hundreds of polemic treatises against theatre from all over Europe. Theatrophobia as a (overtly protestant) discourse is characterized by Lecerle as highly repetitive, “ constantly rewriting something which is already written ” . However, a closer look at the context of the polemicist ’ s treatises shows a “ displaced debate ” in which attacking the stage strikes different targets. “ Theatre ” he argues, “ invades all kinds of other debates, concerning the salvation of individuals, the way they may - or may not - lead their lives, or the relationship between the private and public spheres. ” As a cultural practice, the debates are also closely linked to the professionalization and institutionalization of theatre. Hence, Clotilde Thouret looks at a recurring topic in the controversies about theatre in Europe: “ reconsiderations of spectatorship and a new understanding of what a theatrical event is. ” She identifies an “ epistemology of the spectator ” which “ tends to resonate with the pragmatist aesthetics of Dickie or Goodman. ” Projections of ghosts, necromantic media experiments, so-called phantasmagoria, take centre stage in Kati Röttger ’ s contribution. According to Röttger, the spectacular image production of phantasmagoria epitomizes the Romantic interest in all kinds of spectacular technologies. She suggests historicizing the spectacle by means of its technologies in order to achieve a new, more integral and complex form of theatre historiography. Therefore, Röttger proposes a genealogical perspective on the relationship between the spectacle and modernity. She raises the question, to what extent the spectacle should be seen as an “ integral and constitutive element of modern society from its beginning onwards ” . In her contribution on dance photography, Isa Wortelkamp likewise offers a historiography that engages attentively with the specific historic mediality and materiality of its epistemic object. Here, early 20 th century dance photography is described by Wortelkamp as an encounter of two art forms, as a reciprocal relationship between image and movement, which results in a “ paradoxical presence ” of dance. In her detailed analysis of a damaged dance photograph of Olga Desmond ’ s Schwertertanz, she relates the image shown to the physical quality of the photograph, its handling and its preservation as an object. Wortelkamp emphasizes the importance of material traces of loss, decay and disappearance to reach beyond the representational level of photography. The entanglement of performance art and documentation is discussed in the article by Tancredi Gusman, which is based on the documenta archive in Kassel. Gusman shows how the role and status of photo and video documentation mutates throughout the history of performance art. Looking closely at documenta 5 (curated by Harald Szeemann) and 6 (curated by Manfred Schneckenburger), he argues that “ documentation began to play an essential role because of its ability to translate temporal events into tangible images and objects. ” An increasing relevance of performance art documentation throughout the 1970s correlates with an increased professionalization and institutionalization of the art form. Gusman concludes that the anti-documen- 196 Jan Lazardzig tary self-fashioning of performance artists is closely related to technical reproducibility. Reading and interpreting together has been the hallmark of revolutionary counterhegemonic movements from early Christianity onwards, as Christa-Marie Lerm Hayes ascertains in her contribution on “ stealth activities ” of “ reading together ” . Her case in point are Joyce reading groups dedicated primarily to Finnegans Wake, “ a book that programmatically makes everybody feel inadequate ” . Lerm Hayes identifies reading groups as counter-hegemonic community formations among artists like Joseph Beuys, Zbigniew Gostomski or KwieKulik, performing dissident knowledge in societies under duress. Reading together materializes as a practice of contesting institutions and powerful hierarchies of knowledge. In what way is a work of artists in the performing arts a challenge for historiography? How does a historiographical practice that is not based on representation operate? On which archive does it rely? What form does the narration take? Gabriele Brandstetter discusses these questions on the basis of a broad body of works, including those of performance artists such as Ai Weiwei, Boris Charmatz, Martin Nachbar, Rabih Mroué and Mette Ingvartsen. If there is an effect on a critical historiography, it is by “ doing history ” , Brandstetter concludes, by artists in dance and performance engaging with the mediality and materiality of texts, images and objects which are granted the importance to “ represent the world ” . The contributions in this thematic journal edition originate mainly from a conference ( “ Text, Performance, and the Production of Historical Knowledge ” ) which took place at the University of Amsterdam in early 2017. Elke Huwiler, Suzanne Kooloos and I organized the conference on behalf of the research group “ Historical Theater Research ” . The contributions by Isa Wortelkamp and Tancredi Gusmann derive from a meeting of the IFTR “ Historiography Working Group ” on archiving theatre and performance, which I hosted in spring 2019 at the Department of Theater Studies at Freie Universität Berlin. I would like to express my gratitude to Maureen England for her fine copy-editing of the articles for this journal edition. Maya Haeckel ’ s assistance in preparing the volume for print was also indispensable. I would like to thank the authors of this journal, not only for contributing to this volume but also for their patience and goodwill throughout an unduly prolonged time span. Last but not least, I thank Berenika Szymanski-Düll and Christopher Balme for accepting this thematic collection of articles for Forum Modernes Theater. 197 Editorial Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge: The Protestant Passion Play and the Catholic Saint Play Claudia Daiber (Groningen) / Elke Huwiler (Amsterdam) The article examines two specific types of theatre plays of the German-speaking theatre history of the Late Medieval and Early Modern period: The Passion Play and the Saint Play. In general, German-speaking theatre of the 16 th and 17 th century was characterized by the Reformation and Counter Reformation movements, and performances of theatre plays were, amongst other things, meant to spread religious beliefs and to show the citizens the ‘ right ’ way to believe and to behave. Also, performance practices as such were influenced by these movements: on the one hand, Reformation theatre rolled back the aspect of seeing, thus spectacle; on the other, the Counter Reformation tried to uphold the traditions of the ‘ old ’ faith - an effort which is seen in the staging of Saint Plays, rejecting by their very nature the solus Christus dictum of the Protestant faith but also upholding pre-reformatory performance practices. The drama texts analysed in the article show the reaction of theatre to socioreligious developments by enacting specific content and performative features and hereby shaping the history of Christendom as well as theatre history. When, in the Late Middle Ages, dramatizations of biblical events in churches started to spread to the cities, 1 the Passion Play was one of the most influential genres of religious plays. However, there also emerged numerous other religious plays, such as Easter Plays, Christmas Plays, Pentecost Plays, or, at the end of the 16 th century, Saint Plays. With religious plays, biblical stories and religious beliefs were re-enacted by and for citizens, and religious ideas and notions of the “ right ” behaviour for Christians was spread. Especially in times of the Reformation and Counter Reformation movements, theatre was a means for the officials to reach the people. Therefore, these performances, which were witnessed by a large number of the citizens (as lay players or as spectators), helped to shape the history of Christian beliefs and traditions. However, they also shaped theatre history itself. The following article will examine two specific types of religious plays, the Protestant Passion Play and the Catholic Saint Play, and thereby show how performative strategies shaped (theatre-)historical developments. 2 Part I: The Protestant Passion Play It is certainly not an exaggeration to label the Passion Play as evergreen throughout Latin Europe, since it appears to be a constant from the Middle Ages to the present day. Due to this bestseller status within the Christian tradition, the Passion Play mirrors both the history of Christendom and the history of the performative arts, to the extent that the latter appropriated this pivotal Christian narrative. The evergreen status suggests that drama texts of Passion Plays not only told this narrative, but also received, mediated, and produced Christian history as well as theatre history. The process of receiving history and producing history through the lenses of drama texts, i. e. performative texts, has shaped a theatre Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 198 - 214. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0019 history of its own. This phenomenon can be clearly observed when analysing the performance of Passion Play drama texts originating from the Protestant period. 3 What follows is the analysis of a Passion Play, which was composed after the onset of the Protestant 4 Reformation in Northern and Central Europe by Sebastian Wild, an author who adhered to the ‘ new ’ faith. 5 Wild ’ s Passions- und Osterspiel is one of few which were composed in the wake of the Protestant reformation. 6 For this reason, Wild ’ s dramatic text qualifies for the research question: Which performative features in particular characterize a Passion Play influenced by the ‘ new ’ (Protestant) faith and how have these features shaped theatre history? 7 The earliest known Passion Play from the German-speaking regions, which does not draw exclusively on the Latin language, is the Benediktbeurer Passionsspiel from the first half of the 13 th century. 8 It contains scenes freely composed in a Bavarian-Austrian dialect. 9 Further plays followed in the German-speaking regions throughout the 16 th century. 10 Passion Plays distinguish themselves from other forms of religious plays by their focus on the suffering of Jesus. They have been transmitted in various forms, e. g. embedded in an enlarged history of salvation or combined with an Easter Play on a narrative as well as material level. 11 Today ’ s scholarship upholds the theory that motives for the composition of Passion Plays in particular were inspired by the dogmatization of the doctrine that the ‘ real ’ body of Jesus (rather than his mystical body) is transubstantiated through liturgical rites; a dogmatic change which has moved the ‘ real ’ body of Jesus more into the centre of religious attention. 12 Furthermore, influential predicants, such as Bernhard of Clairvaux 13 and Francis of Assisi 14 concentrated on the physically and mentally suffering (and therefore humble) Christ, and promoted co-suffering. 15 This theory is supported by the fact that the Church, in 1264, introduced the Corpus Christi feast, which celebrates the ‘ meeting of Christ ’ in the consecrated bread and wine, and which led to the Corpus Christi procession as a form of veneration. 16 Within this procession, the established practice was to stage tableaux vivants, which commonly depicted the Stations of the Cross, or more tellingly, the Way of Sorrows. This type of performance has similarities with the Passion Play. Therefore, scholarship is of the opinion that, the Corpus Christi procession was one factor that stimulated the composition of Passion Plays. 17 The quantity of religious play manuscripts and other archival evidence transmitted from German-speaking regions peaks in the 15 th century and at the beginning of the 16 th century. 18 At that time, lay people were often involved in the organization of the historical staging of Passion Plays and therefore composed the drama texts, too. It was then that Passion Plays increasingly received and negotiated societal issues, and the genre became - as Hans Jürgen Linke expressed it - a medium which aimed at “ religious affective collectivization and affirmative socialization of city dwellers and religious communities ” . 19 At this time, some Passion Plays became large-scale events, turning the performance into a common sensational experience for the masses. In particular, this sensational aspect was enhanced by the promotion of the co-suffering believer with Jesus (theologically framed as compassio) in combination with the ever more realistically performed cruel mistreatment of the character Jesus. Although the status of the Passion Play with its Schaufrömmigkeit and the involvement of indulgences was never unanimously accepted, the genre of the Passion Play did not experience a serious backlash until the early Protestant Reformation. Naturally, this change was most pronounced in the terri- 199 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge tories which turned to the Protestant belief and therefore rejected the mediation of faith through the ‘ eye ’ , but instead claimed its mediation through the ‘ Word ’ . 20 As a consequence thereof, religious practices which work by ‘ seeing ’ − such as the Corpus Christi procession and the veneration of the Divine by pictures − were abolished, as was the tradition of performing Passion Plays. 21 Interestingly, Martin Luther, 22 in one of his earliest letters, addresses the issue of daily religious practices based on the veneration of Jesus ’ passion. 23 Clearly, Luther rejects the concept of epiphany by compassion with the suffering Jesus, in Passion Plays often mediated through the suffering mother, Mary. Mainly for this, but also for other reasons, Luther and his companion Philipp Melanchthon 24 rejected the performance of Passion Plays. 25 This point of view does not, however, mean that performance practices were abandoned by the Protestant movement. Luther, as well as the equally important reformer Melanchthon, favoured drama. The latter, recommended and practiced the reception of drama from Antiquity in the Latin language. Luther also recommended the dramatization of biblical texts in the vernacular language, more so from the Old Testament than from the New. Both reformers rejected the status of a Passion Play as an indulgence but emphasized the didactic and pedagogic effect of such drama performances, although for them, the institutional framework was not the marketplace, but the school. Still, Luther more than Melanchthon, looked upon the biblical school drama as a way to mediate faith through education, and from this perspective, as a way to supplement other genres like the sermon. 26 This historical framing clearly signals that the performance of the crucifixion scene in any drama text, and even more so in any possible historical staging, became a major issue due to a change of paradigm initiated by the Protestant movement. The following analysis of the Passion Play by Wild concentrates on the crucifixion scene and the way Jesus presented himself through his suffering; likewise, the analysis examines scenes involving women followers in the Passion Play since they are crucial in representing compassio. The Passion Play by Sebastian Wild The author/ composer Sebastian Wild 27 was a resident of the Free Imperial City of Augsburg, located in the southeast of the Holy Roman Empire. The city ’ s involvement in the events of the Reformation reached its first peak at the 1530 Imperial Diet (Reichstag), where the Confessio Augustana was presented to the Emperor Charles V with the aim of demanding reforms within the Church and justifying and recognizing the religious positions of the Protestant side, but at the same time, preserving the unity of the Church. The petition was rejected by the Emperor and the majority of the Imperial States. However, it had some impact, since it reached the public. In 1548, an Imperial Diet of relevance for the Reformation movement took place again in Augsburg. At this Diet, held shortly after the Dukes united in the Schmalkaldic League had lost a military confrontation with the Emperor and his allies, the Emperor issued the Declaration of His Roman Imperial Majesty on the Observance of Religion within the Holy Empire until the Decision of the General Council. This Declaration is known as Interim and became law on 30 June 1548, applicable throughout the Empire. The measure aimed to re-establish the situation prior to the Reformation until religious questions could be addressed by a council under the auspices of the Pope. For the city of Augsburg and its citizens, the first of the above developments meant 200 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler the introduction of the Reformation in 1534/ 37, thus in a timely proximity to the 1530 Diet (see above). On the political level, the introduction of the Reformation led to a strengthening of the guilds in the governing organs of the city. 28 This development experienced, however, a rather harsh reversal due to the effects of the above-mentioned 1547/ 48 Diet. Emperor Charles V, the direct ruler of the Free Imperial City, ordered the city to re-establish the order that had been valid prior to the introduction of the Reformation. This included not only the reversal of the 1534/ 37 reformatory politics, but also the abolishment of the participation of the guilds in government 29 through the introduction of a patristic elite which was in favour of the Catholic belief and therefore represented the position of the Emperor. 30 As a consequence of this intervention, priests adhering to the Protestant belief were forced to give up their positions; teachers who did not consent to the reestablishment of the ‘ old order ’ lost their jobs. Since Wild was a teacher at the time, he was probably affected by the enactment of this decree in Augsburg. 31 In 1552, the city government of Augsburg, possibly after complaints by citizens, withdrew this measure and readmitted previously sacked teachers of the Protestant faith. 32 The Peace Treaty of Augsburg followed in 1555, as did an imperial law which permitted Protestants to exercise their religion in terms of cuius regio eius religio, and secured their property against expropriation. With this Treaty, the Protestant religion was acknowledged de jure as a religion and no longer considered heresy. For the city of Augsburg, this meant that henceforth all offices, and thus also teaching positions, were filled on the basis of parity. Against this background, Wild wrote between 1556 and 1566 a Passion Play with the title: Ein schöne Tragedj / auß der heyligen schrifft gezogen / Von dem Leyden vnd sterben / auch die aufferstehung vnsers Herren Jesu Christi / in reymen vnd Spilweyß gedicht / welches mit nutz vnd besserung wolzulesen vnd zuhören ist [A nice Tragedy of the Suffering, Dying and Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ based on the Holy Scripture, composed in Verses in the manner of a Play to be read and listened to for Benefit and Betterment]. 33 With regard to its performance, the title asserts that the drama text is composed “ in the manner of a play in order to be read and listened to ” . 34 The title therefore suggests a performance that is read aloud and consequently listened to. Furthermore, the title contains the additional assertion that the play is based on the Scripture, thus adhering to the sola scriptura dictum, an affirmation which is repeated once more by the herald in its prologue when he pronounces: “ der grund vnd das gantz fundament / ist auß dem newen Testament / Gezogen vnd zusam gericht, der gantz Passion [Throughout the whole Passion Play, any reasoning is drawn from and based on the New Testament]. ” 35 Remarkable, in particular when compared to the Passion Plays in the old tradition, is the prominent categorization as a “ Tragedj ” in the title, a term that is also used three times in the prologue by the herald character. The term indicates the humanistic influence of the biblical school drama and an adaptation of the terminology used by Hans Sachs, a contemporary Meistersinger from the city of Nuremberg. 36 The herald stresses the seriousness of the play by distinguishing it expressis verbis from the Shrovetide play, which was the first performative genre influenced by the Reformation. 37 The herald admonishes the audience: “ dann die Tragedi ist nit ein / Fastnacht spil oder sonst ein Schertz [The tragedy is not a Shrovetide play or otherwise an entertaining play]. ” 38 Furthermore, the herald declares the intention of the play, which is to inform the audience/ recipients 201 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge “ about a past history in a reformed way ” , 39 a statement that can be understood as a clear siding with the Protestant belief. 40 Jesus ’ crucifixion Again, the text displays the humanistic influence of the biblical school drama by its organization in three acts, a textual structuring unknown to Passion Plays in the tradition of the Late Middle Ages. The second act, rather early in the drama text, contains Jesus ’ death; however, it does not show a crucifixion scene. In fact, Jesus is ‘ seen ’ on stage for the last time prior to his death when he is standing in front of Pilate. Then, the stage direction informs us that Jesus is led away. What follows are several rather short scenes, all demarcated by individual stage directions. 41 This accumulation of scenes starts with a reflecting Pilate, a group of apostles discussing events, a reappearing Pilate talking to the high priests, “ Cayphas ” and “ Annas ” , the wording of the inscription to be fixed on the cross, the experiencing of the unnatural occurrences by said high priests, and the entrance of Pilate ’ s knight together with the characters Joseph of Arimathea and the High Priest Nicodemus. This organization of rapidly changing scenes with characters entering and exiting indicates that Wild had abandoned the concept of the simultaneous stage of the late medieval tradition and used concepts of the renaissance theatre instead. 42 This particular staging, irrespective of whether it is due to religious considerations or stage requirements, or both, 43 enhances the emotions of uneasiness and distress which are expressed by the characters in these scenes, most clearly so when Jesus ’ follower Mattheus suggests that they should watch from afar, a suggestion which is first rejected by his follower Petrus, who fears for his own life, but later accepted. 44 At this point one might expect that the followers would tell what they see - i. e. the crucifixion − however this is not the case. Instead this silence and the simultaneousness of the rapid change of scenes with the articulation of stressful and uncomfortable feelings suggests that things are happening elsewhere, thus hidden from the audience ’ s/ recipients ’ sight, irrespective of whether they are located inside or outside the text. Therefore, the crucifixion at this point is a matter for the audience ’ s/ recipients ’ imagination. This uneasy, pending atmosphere is resolved in the next scene, when the characters Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus ask Pilate on his appearance 45 for permission to bury Jesus ’ body: “ Es ist unser bitt vmb des Herren/ Jesu leib wollten wir begraben,/ den die Juden gecreützigt haben [We ask for the body of/ Jesus since we want to bury him/ the one who the Jews have crucified] ” . 46 Here, for the first time, the crucifixion is pronounced in words that up until now had only been suggested indirectly on stage by the expression of emotions, movements, and gestures. Thus, the anxiety of the audience/ recipients materializes in the words of Joseph and is further embodied, or quite literally becomes a body, when the dead body of Jesus is brought on stage: “ tragen Jesum sam tod ein [carry the dead Jesus on stage]. ” 47 Women followers After Jesus ’ crucifixion has been confirmed by the words of Joseph of Arimathea and his death by the staging of his corpse, the three female characters, Maria Magdalena, Maria Salome, and Maria Jacobi (mentioned in Mark 16: 1) appear. With a long gesture of lament, they start to express their distress about Jesus ’ death, asserting repeatedly that Jesus is God ’ s son. However, in indirect speech, they also report on the factual event of the crucifixion, including Jesus ’ bodily 202 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler suffering: “ Er hieng dam it ausgspannen armen/ An einem hohen Kreütz erhaben,/ An beyd hend vnd füßen durch graben,/ Das von jm floß das rodte blut “ [He was hanging there with stretched arms/ on a high cross/ Both his hands and feet were pierced through/ So that the red blood was flowing therefrom]. ” 48 The group of female characters operates most clearly throughout this long lament on the interaction with the audience/ recipients. The female characters invite the audience/ recipients to lament with them. In doing so, they articulate what would have been expressed by an on-stage performance of the crucifixion on that very spot. 49 The event of the crucifixion, which was suggested by the choreography of the text as taking place in the mind of the audience/ recipients, is staged outwardly at this point through the keening women, but as a past, narrated, and unseen event. In this way, the female characters, although formally adhering to the requirements of the gospel, perform the function of characters such as the important female follower Veronica in the Passion Plays in the tradition of the Late Middle Ages. 50 This becomes particularly obvious when the character Maria Magdalena attacks the Jews as false in character and blind in faith. She also curses them because of their role in the crucifixion of Jesus and predicts that they have put themselves under a yoke for generations. 51 Language of that type can be found, for example, in the Donauesching Passion Play, a Passion Play from the Late Middle Ages. There it is the character Cristiana, a personification of the Christian religion, who condemns the Jews. 52 The messages mediated by the female followers in Wild ’ s Passion Play are therefore rather close to the compassio concept as performed in the Passion Plays of the late medieval period and consequently close to the old faith, too. 53 What does, however, come as a surprise is the absence of Mary, the Mother of God. This observation is confirmed by the lists of characters participating in the play: Mary, the mother of Jesus is not listed, 54 not even as a silent character. If this omission is interpreted from a religious angle, it may mean the reception of the Solus Christus dictum, i. e. God ’ s grace can only be received through his son and not through his mother Mary, the latter perspective upheld by the ‘ old ’ faith. Jesus ’ self-staging The particular setting of the crucifixion raises the question of whether there is any room left for a self-staging of Jesus. In other Fig. 1: Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, painting by Lucas Cranach, the Elder, 1518. 203 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge words, is there any way that the character can present himself as the suffering sacrifice for humankind and its sins? An attempt in this direction is undertaken when the scene in the olive garden called Gethsemane is expanded. As in the gospel, Jesus experiences loneliness and fear in the face of his impending death, emotions that intensify when he watches his sleeping followers. In contrast to the account in the gospel, he begs God, the Father twice 55 “ to take this cup away from him ” , and expresses his fear accordingly when he says that “ the fear makes him sweat blood ” and that “ he may die out of fear and pain ” . 56 His agony is stressed even more by his walking back and forth between his sleeping followers and the place where he kneels down to address God, the Father. Production of Religious Knowledge I It can be concluded from the variety of religious plays that the Passion Play in particular was a challenge for authors/ composers who adhered to the ‘ new ’ Protestant faith. This challenge, articulated by Luther in an early letter (1519), 57 was embedded within the widespread discourse about the depiction of the Divine in paintings and on stage. As discussed, the drama text omits the crucifixion scene, which is crucial to all Passion Plays, but tries to compensate for the omission through performative scenes evoking the same feelings of distress. The effect of this approach is that the depiction of the crucifixion scene, and thus the suffering divine entity, is transferred to the inner realm of the audience/ recipient, a composition that is in line with the reformatory dictum as expressed by Luther and his Wittenberg circle. The conclusion is therefore that the drama text evidently tries to pass on the ‘ old ’ tradition of the Passion Play, a symbol of the ‘ old ’ faith, to the ‘ new ’ one by adjusting it to various dicta of the new faith. Ultimately, however, the conclusion is that the genre of the Passion Play in an emerging tradition of religious plays mediating the ‘ new ’ faith did not last, but found its way into the oratorios by, amongst others, Johann Sebastian Bach. 58 Still, particularly those Passion Plays composed in the spirit of the Protestant faith mark a paradigm change brought about by the Reformation. As described, Passion Plays reduced the aspect of spectacle, and instead stressed the listening to and reflecting on the Word. In line with this observation is that Passion Plays do not try to convey salvation (as the Passion Plays in the tradition of the ‘ old ’ faith do) but try to teach the way to salvation. Moreover, and this is of particular interest, Passion Plays of the ‘ new ’ faith historicize religion simply because - from their perspective − there is a ‘ new ’ and an ‘ old ’ religion, something Wild was obviously aware of when he wrote: “ So mercket auff die gsicht vergangen, / Die wir yetzt wollen reformiren [be aware of the history past / which we will reform now]. ” 59 In this way, Passion Plays shaped theatre history. Part II: The Catholic Saint Play The Saint Play is a dramatic form, which only emerged in the late 16 th century. 60 While the Saint Play in the German territories was both a Catholic and a Protestant genre, 61 in the Swiss Confederation it was only produced in Catholic areas due to the special historical circumstances, which will be explained in this part of the article. Therefore, the Saint Play, as well as the Passion Play, mediated and produced Christian history and theatre history, albeit with specific local characteristics. The religious - and therefore political - self-image of the inhabitants of the Swiss 204 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler Confederation and the relationship between the various Swiss regions of the early modern period were fundamentally tested by the Reformation and Counter Reformation movements. Starting in the early 1520s in Zurich, the Reformation tried to spread to all cantons of the confederation, with cantons like Berne and Basel following. However, the resistance on the side of the cantons that did not want to reform, 62 such as Lucerne and other cantons in central Switzerland, led to a war between the cantons in 1531. After this so-called Second Kappel War, which the Catholics won, the dissemination of Reformation thought was, for the time being, ended, and a sphere of toleration was installed in which every canton was free to stay Reformed or Catholic. A ban on reviling the opposite denomination was also introduced, which made sure that insulting members or habits of the other denomination was purged. 63 However, the parts of the Swiss Confederation adhering to the old faith had to deal with allegations against the clergy and their habits, like the selling of indulgences and keeping of mistresses. Some Protestant ideas and criticism of the old church were taken seriously and started a process of change within the Catholic Church itself; the luxurious life of the clergy and their neglect of their duties, but also the morally questionable lifestyle of the citizens, began to be tackled. Theatrical plays were - together with sermons and leaflets - the most popular and successful ways of spreading the ideas of the ‘ right ’ moral behaviour amongst citizens. Therefore, morality plays and extensive scenes of morally good behaviour in plays in general became very popular after the Reformation movement in both Catholic and Reformation cantons of the Confederation. Swiss early modern theatre is known for its inherent political layer. 64 As the Swiss confederation was organized in a federal manner, political power lay with the council of the cities and villages. Whenever political matters were discussed in general, they were also discussed in performances. As there were no principalities and no nobility, there were no courts, as in other countries, where theatre was played on indoor stages built for the court. When theatre was played indoors in Swiss cities, it was in schools; but generally, theatre was a public happening for the whole city. As no permanent theatre houses existed yet, performances were given in open spaces outdoors, mostly marketplaces. 65 When theatrical events took place, virtually the whole city was involved, either as lay actors and producers of the play, as service providers for the feast accompanying the performance, or as viewers. All citizens, rich and poor, men and women, old and young, noble and lower class, were able to attend and did so. 66 Performances had great impact and coverage - a fact well known by the writers of the plays and by the city council, who had to grant permission for the performances. Therefore, when the council wanted to convey a specific message to the people of a city, theatre performances were an excellent means of doing so. Also, it was common in the Swiss Confederation to invite representatives from other cantons to such festivities, 67 and what was shown in the performances thus also served as a means of representing the city to the outside world. Comparable to what Peter Lake and Michael C. Questier write about the early modern English theatre, performances in Swiss cities of the Early Modern period were able to provide “ [c]ontemporaries with a complex, interconnected and gendered web of narrative conventions, images and tropes that allowed them to confront and control, to scare themselves with and reassure themselves about, some of the most threatening aspects of their social, religious and political worlds ” . 68 Or as Hildegard Keller puts it; by experiencing, as performers and as viewers, 205 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge “ a whole variety of subject positions ” , people in the Swiss Confederation were able to “ come to an understanding of themselves as citizens of a city-state within an Empire, as allies within a Confederation, and as avantgarde reformers of ecclesiastical, social and civic institutions ” . 69 Of course, a clear distinction cannot be made between the intentions of the officials and the meaning interpreted by the citizens in the audiences. The display of morally right behaviour and beliefs intentionally inscribed into the performance practice and the content of the plays can be described as censuring practices; governmental interests in spreading information were important factors in the process of staging a play. The writers or producers of the plays were often people with great influence within city politics, and they had to submit their scripts to the city council for approval. Therefore, the messages conveyed in the plays had, in principle, on a semantic level of the written words, to be in line with official politics. However, the theatre experience could not be completely controlled; the open space was already filled with meaning inscribed in it from other activities usually carried out at the same spot, as well as historical events at the time of the performance, or political conflicts triggered by elements of the story that was being enacted. In historical theatre research, we cannot describe the actual impact performances had on the audience. Yet, by looking at textual performative strategies, we can describe how plays tried to employ “ Wirkungen und Dynamiken [. . .] an der Schnittstelle mit seinen Rezipienten ” . 70 [ “ effects and dynamics [. . .] at the intersection with its recipients ” ] At the same time, performances in the early modern Swiss Confederation were, due to their inherent political layer, always bound to the specific location at the specific time of performance. This context is crucial to the understanding of the play texts. Against the background of the Reformation and Counter Reformation movements, the hypothesis of this part of the article is that the ‘ right ’ denomination and moral behaviour were to be conveyed to the citizens by means of a re-enactment of religious and political beliefs by the audience of the plays. This will be shown on the basis of a particular theatrical genre, the Saint Play. The questions to be asked are, following those asked about the Protestant Passion plays in the first part of this article: What performative features in particular characterize (Catholic) Saint Plays? What textual performative strategies are applied in order to stick to the requirements posed by the renewed faith of the Counter-Reformation? How is the understanding of the biblical text and, with it, history itself being negotiated on stage by means of performative strategies? The Catholic Saint Play Lucerne was - besides Fribourg and Solothurn - the main city in Switzerland that remained Catholic during the 16 th century (and ever since). The surrounding rural cantons of today ’ s central Switzerland - Unterwalden, Uri, Zug and Schwyz - also adhered to the old faith. Here, the medieval tradition of the Easter and Passion Plays remained very strong, and there is a very rich legacy of documented performance culture from that time. 71 While plays explicitly showing the suffering of Christ (the trial, crucifixion, and death) were forbidden by the Reformation, the Catholic Passion Plays seemed to increase the intensity of the suffering shown. The old denomination held on to the conviction that by identifying with the performed suffering, the public would be invited to experience compassion and to long for the redemption of their own sins. By intensifying the performances of the Passion and Easter Plays, the city of Lucerne 206 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler made a public statement about the rightness of the Catholic denomination: the plays became longer, and the scenes of suffering were extended. In general, as in other areas of the Confederation, in Lucerne it was common to add a didactic and cautionary tone not only to religious, but also to secular plays; thus a tendency towards a mingling of styles of theatre play types can be observed. 72 While, at the beginning of the 16 th century, there was a clear division between religious and secular plays (although both shared some characteristics), the predominant theatre play type of the Catholic areas at the end of the 16 th and the beginning of the 17 th century was the Saint Play, incorporating a wide range of elements which had previously tended to be separated according to the type of play (secular or religious). 73 The Swiss Saint Play at the end of the 16 th and the beginning of the 17 th century is a type of play that emerged only in the Catholic areas of the Confederation; in the reformed areas, worship and display of saints had been banned by Zwingli. 74 Showing the life of saints on stage was a distinct feature of the Counter Reformation area and, as such, a demonstration of the belief in the rightness of the old denomination; since the Protestant denomination rejected the notion of redemption being reached through someone other than Christ himself, the mere existence and staging of a Saint Play made a strong statement to the contrary. Showing the life and holiness of a saint was thus a political statement. When the worship and display of representations of saints (pictures, statues, etc.) were banned in the Reformation areas, the Catholic areas were at first hesitant regarding their own official standpoint towards the worship of saints. However, after the synod in Trento 1545 - 1564, the Catholic denomination was officially assured that the worship of saints was good and important; hence, the increase of saint plays afterwards. 75 Usually, play texts were written to be staged at a specific time and in a specific place for a specific occasion. There were no permanent playhouses yet, and theatre performances were usually a singular event, although we do have occasional proof of plays being performed more than once on different occasions. In order to analyse the performative qualities of a play text, the specific staging at a certain time and place in history provides important information. However, we do not always know where and when the play was performed. Therefore, the intrinsic performative qualities of the text, as described by Velten, 76 help us to analyse the strategies of the text to present a sort of staging of the text by itself. In the following analysis, a combination of both analytical strategies will be applied, as the political circumstances, place and time of the saint play analysed are known to us, and provide us with important information. Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel of 1601 The Catholic Saint Play, The Sarnen play of brother Klaus [Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel] 77 by the priest of Sarnen, Johann Zurflüe, was written in 1601 and performed on 16 th and 17 th September of the same year, very probably at the marketplace of Sarnen, the capital of the canton of Obwalden, part of Unterwalden. It was most probably staged in the old tradition of the ‘ simultaneous stage ’ , with all the characters continuously present. 78 The manuscript we have 79 is a fair copy written after the performance to be handed over to the authorities of Sarnen, who had supported the performance of the play. The actors in the play were, as usual at the time in Swiss cities, lay actors who were citizens of the area. The play text provides us with a list of the names and (in most cases) the profes- 207 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge sion and/ or social rank of each of the players. Here, the text links the dramatis personae of the play with a specific social structure, providing the readers with a frame for interpreting the text. The important roles of the ‘ Herald ’ and the ‘ Argumentator ’ were played by two of the highest ranked political men of Obwalden; these characters bridge the gap between the play and the audience by addressing the audience directly, explaining to them what they were going to see next, what they had just seen, and how they should interpret it. Other political men played important personae in the play, such as Bruder Klaus, Moses, or the impersonated representatives of the different cantons; the roles of the clergy in the play were all played by real clergy. 80 Fig. 2: The Town of Sarnen. Wood engraving by Johann Stumpf, printed in 1548. The marketplace is situated in the middle where four human figures are displayed. The chapel the play most probably refers to was built on the edge of the marketplace in 1556. The play tells the life story of the Saint 81 Bruder Klaus in eight acts. Niklaus von Flüe, later called Bruder Klaus - brother Klaus - lived from 1417 to 1487 in the canton of Obwalden, part of Unterwalden. He was a farmer, soldier, and father of ten children. At the age of 50, he left his wife and children to become a hermit, ending up living in a small hut near his family home in Sachseln. He attracted many visitors, whom he helped with their concerns; he apparently did not need any food or water and thus he was considered a Saint. The endeavour to canonize him began right after his death, but it was not until 1947 that the canonization actually took place. However, the people of Unterwalden, together with the Catholic part of the whole Swiss Confederation, regarded and worshipped Bruder Klaus as a Saint anyway from the very beginning until the actual canonization. The Sarner Bruderklausenspiel is a typical (Catholic) Saint play of the late 16 th and early 17 th century, showing the life of a Saint and incorporating elements of the theatrical tradition of various types of plays of the 15 th and 16 th century; these include: scenes of wastrels, drunkards, adulterers, and whores; scenes with fools commenting on the story; scenes with devils appearing on stage and taking the sinners to hell; long scenes in which various figures comment on the moral meaning of the story; as well as scenes in which representatives of the various cantons of the Confederation appear and speak about political problems and the solutions of the state. Also typical is the method of the writer Johann Zurflüe of taking earlier (play) texts and inserting them into his own play, changing them whenever an adjustment to the local and contemporary environment was needed and completing them with own passages. The two main sources from which Zurflüe took whole passages are: a Latin Saint Play of Bruder Klaus by the Jesuit Jakob Gretser (1552 - 1625) which had been performed in Lucerne in 1586, 82 and a Protestant secular play called Der welt spiegel (The mirror of the world) by Valentin Boltz (1515 - 1560), a citizen of Basle, which was performed there in 1550 and which contained passages in which Bruder Klaus appeared as a political figure (not a Saint). 83 In the opening scene of Sarner Bruderklausenspiel, the public is addressed by the 208 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler “ Herald ” who invites the audience to say a prayer with him. Then, the audience is included in the circle of “ chosen ” people whose grandfathers knew the Saint and witnessed his miracles: “ Vnsre großvätter hand jnn bekantt / Den säligen vnd vil helgen man [Our grandfathers knew him / The beatified and very holy man] ” . 84 In this way, the audience is invited to participate in the worship of the Saint by means of the performance. This specific localization of the performance in the environment of the audience of 1601 in Obwalden can also be observed in various other performative features, for example the representation of devils on stage. In the tradition of the Passion and Easter plays, the appearance on stage of devils who take the sinners with them to hell is a well-known and very performatively effective way of reminding the audience directly of their own possible faith: sinners (drunkards, adulterers, cursers, prostitutes, etc.) are taken directly to their final destination, never to return. The devil figures in the Sarner Bruderklausenspiel are mostly taken from this well-known theatrical tradition; they are called Sathan, Belzebock, Behemott, and Astaroth. 85 Two devils, Asmodeus and Belial, are taken from the Latin play by Gretser. There is, however, one devil figure who is completely different from the others: a devil figure disguised as a dog, but with only one eye positioned in the middle of his forehead. This figure called “ Der Tanzlaubenhund ” [The dance arbour dog] is a well-known legendary figure of local folklore and superstitious traditions; 86 by integrating this figure into this specific performance, the performance was not only referring to theatrical traditions, but also to the direct environment of the audience. The designation of the audience as a ‘ chosen circle ’ and the re-enactment of the local beliefs of the time of the performance can be seen even more clearly in the scene after the Saint dies on stage. The historical Niklaus von Flüe had been buried in his hometown, Sachseln, a little village close to the village of Sarnen, where the play was performed. As the grave in Sachseln was not easily reached by the growing number of pilgrims wanting to visit it, it was expanded and made accessible to a large audience in the year 1600, one year before the performance in question. This had certainly been a big issue for the whole area in 1600, and so the re-enacted entombment of the Saint during the performance in 1601 united the audience and the players alike in an experience close to their own world. When the Saint is put into his coffin and carried away by the crowd of people present on stage, the stage directions describe a very ritualized and specific movement: “ Komptt der priester, B. Uelrich sampt/ B. Claúsen fründtschafft mitt brünnen-/ den kertzen, legentt jnn in thodtenbaúm/ tragentt jn vmb den platz der kirchen/ zuo, mitt kläglichen gesangen [Comes the priest, brother Ulrich as well as/ the friends of Brother Klaus with burning/ candles, they place him in the coffin/ [and] carry him around the place to the church/ with lamenting songs]. ” 87 The crowd of friends carrying burning candles walk around the space in a kind of half circle to get to the place where the coffin is buried. In the real marketplace where the performance most probably took place, this was probably a chapel at the edge of the marketplace. 88 The movement of the actors enacts a religious procession, which were very common at the time. Especially in Obwalden, processions to the grave of Bruder Klaus were very customary. Here, the local anchoring of the performance is especially obvious: as Niklaus von Flüe was not officially canonized (yet), he could not function as an official patron Saint for a church or a community. 89 However, the officials in Obwalden themselves undermined this official statement by having the people of Obwalden 209 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge carry out processions to the grave of Bruder Klaus on a regular basis: “ Der Obwaldner Rat etwa ließ zur Abwendung verschiedener Gefahren oder aus politischen Anlässen Wallfahrtsprozessionen nach Sachseln abhalten, um anzuzeigen, dass sein Stand nach dem ‘ consensus populi ‘ unter dem Schutz von Bruder Klaus stand ” . 90 The text does not state whether members of the audience followed the procession of the actors, yet in light of the space where the performance was most probably carried out, this assumption is more than probable. The coffin is carried around the place to a church, and there was a chapel situated at the edge of the marketplace of Sarnen. 91 In order for the audience to be able to follow the closing scenes of the play, it is very likely that they followed the actors, thereby actually participating in the re-enacted religious procession. Religious precessions had been banned in the reformation areas, and to include one in a public performance in such a prominent manner was a clear statement of the Counter Reformation. Production of Religious Knowledge II The textual performative strategies of integrating the audience into the performance by means of bridging figures and the reenactment of religious rituals can be seen as characteristic of the Counter Reformation movement; this movement was one to separate the right from the wrong belief, one to include and exclude the right and wrong people respectively. The opposition of “ us ” and “ them ” was omnipresent in the early modern Swiss Confederation, and although this particular Saint play also strives to unite the confederation on a political level by reenacting the joint oath of the Confederates, 92 the tendency to mark the Catholic faith as the one true faith is clearly seen. As direct mockery and invectives were not possible on stage due to the ban on reviling the opposite denomination, this performative re-enactment and the unifying gestures, which include the audience in the statements of the performance, are performative strategies which mark the Catholic denomination. Just like in the Reformation areas, theatre reacted to the new societal, religious, and political conditions and not only integrated the statements into the story of the play, but also re-enacted the statement with the audience (or reader, for that matter) by means of performative strategies that included the audience in the statement. This re-enactment can itself be seen as a negotiation of the righteous reading of the biblical text by the Counter Reformation and therefore as history being made by performance. Theatrical performances of the 16 th and the beginning of the 17 th century in the German-speaking areas were meant to shape society, theatre history, as well as history as such. Notes 1 Ursula Schulze, Geistliche Spiele im Mittelalter und in der Frühen Neuzeit. Von der liturgischen Feier zum Schauspiel, Göttingen 2012, p. 35. 2 Part I of this article is written by Claudia Daiber, part II by Elke Huwiler. 3 For the purposes of this article, the Protestant Period is dated from 1517, when Martin Luther ’ s 95 Theses for reforming the church were spread, until 1648 with the conclusion of the 1648 Peace of Westphalia, which established religious toleration within the Holy Roman Empire for the confessions of the Roman Catholic, the Lutheran, and the Reformed Churches. With the 1648 Peace of Westphalia, the 1555 Peace Treaty of Augsburg, which had already granted religious toleration to the Lutheran confession, was confirmed (see also below The Passion Play by Sebastian Wild). 210 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler 4 For the purposes of this article, the term ‘ Protestant ’ is understood as being the opposite of Roman Catholic. Strictly speaking, the term Protestantism and Protestant belief/ believer respectively mean the followers of Luther. The term was established in the context of the 1529 Imperial Diet (Reichstag) in the German-speaking city of Speyer when the Imperial Estates in favour of Reformation launched a protestatio with which they protested against the withdrawal of the 1526 Diet decision which established the eius regio cuius religio doctrine for the first time and therefore left it up to the individual Imperial States which religion was the ruling one within their territory. In fact, the 1529 Imperial Diet attempted (however without success) to reinstate the status accomplished by the 1521 Worms Diet where it was decided to prohibit the reading and spreading of Luther ’ s teachings. 5 See below Passions- und Osterspiel by Sebastian Wild. 6 See Schulze, Geistliche Spiele, pp. 126 - 135. 7 See Jan Lazardzig, Viktoria Tkaczyk and Matthias Warstat, Theaterhistoriografie. Eine Einführung, Tübingen/ Basel 2012, pp. 1 - 7 and pp. 26 - 30. 8 For its text, see Karl Young, The Drama of the Medieval Church, Vol. 1, Oxford 1962, pp. 518 - 536. 9 For details, see Schulze, Geistliche Spiele, p. 83. 10 Joachim Heinzle (ed.), Geschichte der deutschen Literatur von den Anfängen bis zum Beginn der Neuzeit, Vol. 2: Vom hohen zum späten Mittelalter, Part 2: Wandlungen und Neuansätze im 13. Jahrhundert (1160/ 70 - 1220/ 30), Tübingen 1994, p. 158. This creation process is not unique to the German-speaking regions but can be observed throughout the Europe of the Latin Christendom. 11 For details on the various transmissions, see Schulze 2012, pp. 45 - 68 and pp. 78 - 135. 12 Anthonius H. Touber, “ Einleitung ” , in: id. (ed.), Das Donaueschinger Passionsspiel, Stuttgart 1985, pp. 5 - 52, here: “ Introduction to the Donauesching Passion Play ” , pp. 8 et seq. 13 1090 - 1153. 14 1226 - 1230. 15 Touber, “ Introduction to the Donauesching Passion Play ” , pp. 8 et seq. 16 Johannes Janota, “ Orientierung durch volkssprachliche Schriftlichkeit (1280/ 90 - 1380/ 90) ” , in: Joachim Heinzle (ed.), Geschichte der deutschen Literatur von den Anfängen bis zum Beginn der Neuzeit, Vol. 3: Vom späten Mittelalter zum Beginn der Neuzeit, Part 1, Tübingen 2004, pp. 368 et seq. 17 Touber, “ Introduction to the Donauesching Passion Play ” , p. 8. 18 Janota, Orientierung durch volkssprachliche Schriftlichkeit, p. 356. 19 Hans-Jürgen Linke, “ Sozialisation und Vergesellschaftung im mittelalterlichen Drama und Theater ” , in: Christel Meier, Heinz Meyer and Claudia Spanily (eds.), Das Theater des Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit als Ort und Medium sozialer und symbolischer Kommunikation, Münster 2014, pp. 64 - 93, here: p. 67: “ Die theatralische Veranschaulichung von Heilsgeschichte [. . .] dient der [. . .] affektiven religiösen Vergemeinschaftung, [. . .] der städtischen Repräsentation und der affirmativen stadtbürgerlichen Sozialisation ” . 20 See Martin Luther, “ Wider die himmlischen Propheten, von den Bildern und Sakrament (1525) ” , in: Weimarer Ausgabe (citation key WA) 18, pp. 62 - 84; Walther von Loewenich, “ IV. Reformatorische und nachreformatorische Zeit ” , in: Theologische Realenzyklopädie (online edition), Berlin 2006, pp. 546 - 551. 21 Andrea Löther, Prozessionen in spätmittelalterlichen Städten, Köln/ Weimar/ Wien 1999, p. 310, referring to the city of Nuremberg. 22 1483 - 1546. 23 Martin Luther: “ Sermon von der Betrachtung des heyligen leydens Christi (1519) ” [Sermon on Contemplating the Holy Suffering of Christ], in: WA 2, pp. 136 - 142. 24 * 1497 - 1560. 25 Detlef Metz, Das protestantische Drama. Evangelisches geistliches Theater in der Reformationszeit und im konfessionellen Zeitalter, Köln 2013, p. 126 and pp. 131 et seq. 211 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge 26 Ibid., p. 139; Christian Schmidt, Drama und Betrachtung. Meditative Theaterästhetiken im 16. Jahrhundert, Berlin 2018, p. 211, doubts whether on the basis of the Sermon von der Betrachtung des heyligen lydens Christi it can be concluded that Luther rejected the historical staging of passion plays. In the context of this article, this question is of no relevance since the author/ composer Wild obviously reacted to Luther ’ s statement by composing his passion play in the way he did, i. e. without directly showing a crucifixion scene, see below Passions- und Osterspiel by Sebastian Wild. 27 Neither the birth nor the death year of Wild is known. He is mentioned for the last time in a 1583 tax protocol (see Metz Protestantisches Drama, p. 550). 28 For details, see Rolf Kießling, “ Augsburg in der Reformationszeit ” , in: Augsburger Stadtlexikon, pp. 1 - 10, here: pp. 7 et seq. (https: / / www.wissner.com/ stadtlexikon-augsburg/ aufsaetze-zur-stadtgeschichte/ augsburg-inder-reformationszeit [accessed 22 September 2020]. 29 For details, see ibid. 30 Wolfgang Reinhard (ed.), Augsburger Eliten des 16. Jahrhunderts. Prosopographie wirtschaftlicher und politischer Führungsgruppen 1500 - 1620, Berlin 1996, pp. XIV-V. 31 Manfred Knedlik, “ Wild, Sebastian ” , in: Wilhelm Kühlmann et al. (eds.), Frühe Neuzeit in Deutschland 1520 - 1620. Literaturwissenschaftliches Verfasserlexikon (VL 16), vol. 6, Berlin/ Boston 2017, columns 573 - 580. However it should be noted that no archival evidence has been retrieved so far about how he and his wife (who was also a teacher) spent the time of the Interim. 32 Metz, Protestantisches Drama, p. 550 with reference to Friedrich Roth, Augsburgs Reformationsgeschichte, vol. 4, München 1911, p. 357 et seq. 33 See Manfred Knedlik, Das Passions- und Osterspiel (1566) von Sebastian Wild, Editio Bavarica, vol. VII. Regensburg 2019, p. 7. Citation key: Wild, Passion. 34 According to Manfred Knedlik, “ Aneignung durch Transformation. Zu den protestantischen Passionsdramen von Hans Sachs und Sebastian Wild ” [Appropriation through Transformation. The Protestant Passion Dramas by Hans Sachs and Sebastian Wild.], in: Bayerisches Jahrbuch für Volkskunde, München 2019, pp. 115 - 124, here: p. 119, there is archival evidence that the Passions- und Osterspiel was staged in 1565 in the city of Augsburg. 35 Wild, Passion, p. 8, lines 7 - 10. 36 Schulze, Geistliche Spiele, p. 132. 37 Metz, Protestantisches Drama, p. 228. 38 Wild, Passion, p. 8, lines 24 - 25. 39 Ibid., p. 9, lines 36 - 37: “ So mercket auff die gsicht vergangen, / Die wir yetzt wollen reformiren ” [Pay attention to the history past / now, we will it reform it]; see as well below Conclusion. 40 Schulze, Geistliche Spiele, p. 132. 41 Wild, Passion, placed after p. 42 lines 859, 870, 886, p. 43 line 896, and p. 44 line 910. 42 Knedlik, “ Aneignung durch Transformation ” , p. 117. 43 See Metz, Protestantisches Drama, p. 552. 44 Wild, Passion, p. 43 line 880 - 881: “ O ich darff mich nit sehen lassen. / Den Juden ist niet zuvertrauen ” . [I am not allowed to be seen / the Jews cannot be trusted]; [. . .] p. 43 line 886: “ Ja, so geht her, ich wils auch wagen ” [Move ahead, I will take the risk.] 45 Ibid., p. 44 stage direction ahead of line 914: “ Pilatus geht ein und spricht ” . [Pilate enters the stage and speaks]. 46 Ibid., p. 44 lines 916 - 918. 47 Ibid., p. 47 stage direction after line 972. 48 Ibid., p. 48 lines 1014 - 1017. 49 Schulze, Geistliche Spiele, p. 133. 50 See Touber, Das Donauesching Passionsspiel, p. 204 lines 3189 - 3200. 51 Wild, Passion, p. 49 lines 1044 - 1047: ” O ir falschen Juden verblend, / Wol habt ir ein joch auff euch gladen, / Wol must irs so mit grossem schaden / buessen vnd all ewre Kinder. “ [O you false Jews / you have betaken yourselves under a yoke / you and your children will have to purge and suffer great damage.] 52 See Touber, The Donauesching Passion Play, p.224 lines 3625 - 3631. 53 A different view is taken by Knedlik, Aneignung durch Transformation, p. 110. 212 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler 54 See list of participating characters, in: Wild, Passion, p. 7. 55 Ibid., p. 16 lines 235 - 241 and p. 17 - 18 lines 260 - 279. 56 Ibid., p. 18 lines 276: “ Die angst macht mir bitter vnd heiß, / Das mir außtringt der blutig schweyß. [Fear makes me feel bitter and hot] [. . .] lines 279: “ Ich stirb sonst vor angsten vnd pein. ” [I am dying out of fear and pain]. 57 Metz, Protestantisches Drama, p. 131 referring to Luther: “ Sermon von der Betrachtung des heyligen leydens Christi (1519) ” , in: WA 2, pp. 136 - 142. 58 See Anne Metzler, Das Kaufbeurer Passionsspiel. Das Kaufbeurer Osterspiel. Zwei Werke des reformatorischen Gemeindegeistlichen in Kaufbeuren und Augsburger Bürgers MICHAEL LUCIUS aus dem Jahr 1562, Augsburg (Dissertation) 1996, p. 22. 59 Wild, Passion, p. 9 lines 36 - 37. 60 Heidy Greco-Kaufmann, “ Ein schön lústiges vnd nüwes spill. Zurflües Bruder Klaus - ein unterhaltsames Heiligenspiel? ” , in: id./ Elke Huwiler (eds.), Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel von Johann Zurflüe (1601), Zürich 2017, pp. 445 - 468, here: p. 449. 61 Ibid. 62 It was only after the installation of the Reformation that the term ‘ Catholic ’ became the ‘ opposite ’ of the term ‘ Reformation ’ and that they were seen as two different denominations, although the Reformation movement actually had wanted to reform the church as such and not to split it. In Switzerland, the term ‘ Reformation ’ was used in the 16 th century, as the term ‘ Protestantism ’ originated from the Lutheran Church, which differs from the Reformed church in various aspects. Later, ‘ Protestantism ’ became a synonym for ‘ Reformation ’ ; see Martin Sallmann, ‘ Protestantismus ’ , in: Historisches Lexikon der Schweiz, Version 14 December 2011, http: / / www.hls-dhs-dss.ch/ textes/ d/ D28700.php [accessed 29 September 2020]. 63 See Glenn Ehrstine, Theater, Culture, and Community in Reformation Berne, 1523 - 1555, Leiden/ Boston/ Köln 2002, p. 52. 64 See Elke Huwiler, “ Theater, Politik und Identität: Das Schweizer Schauspiel des 16. Jahrhunderts ” , in: Peter Hanenberg and Fernando Clara (eds.), Aufbrüche. Kulturwissenschaftliche Studien zu Performanz und Performativität, Würzburg 2012, pp. 22 - 35. 65 The first permanent theatre house opened in Baden in 1675. See Simone Gojan, Spielstätten der Schweiz. Historisches Handbuch, Zürich 1998, p. 11. 66 See Stefan Schöbi, “ Der Ludius auf Zurichs Bühne ” , in: Hildegard Elisabeth Keller (ed.), Mit der Arbeit seiner Hände. Leben und Werk des Zürcher Stadtchirurgen und Theatermachers Jakob Ruf (1505 - 1558), Zürich 2008, pp. 155 - 171, here: p. 156. 67 See Peter Pfrunder, Pfaffen, Ketzer, Totenfresser. Fastnachtskultur der Reformationszeit - Die Berner Spiele von Niklaus Manuel, Zürich 1989, p. 74. 68 Peter Lake and Michael C. Questier, The Antichrist ’ s Lewd Hat. Protestants, Papists, and Players in Post-Reformation England, New Haven 2002, p. xxvi. 69 Hildegard Elisabeth Keller, “ God ’ s Plan for the Swiss Confederation ” , in: Randolph C. Head and Daniel Christensen (eds.), Orthodoxies and Heterodoxies in Early Modern German Culture. Order and Creativity 1500 - 1750, Leiden/ Boston 2007, pp. 139 - 167, here: p. 154. In the 16 th century, Swiss cities were still technically part of the Holy Roman Empire, yet they had already gained a high level of independence and saw themselves as part of the Swiss Confederation. The city-state of Zurich was the first one to convert to the Reformation. 70 Hans Rudolf Velten, “ Performativitätsforschung ” , in Jost Schneider (ed.), Methodengeschichte der Germanistik, Berlin/ New York 2009, pp. 549 - 572, here: p. 552 [Transl. E. H.]. 71 See Heidy Greco-Kaufmann, Zuo der Eere Gottes, vfferbuwung dess mentschen vund der statt Lucern lob. Theater und szenische Vorgänge in der Stadt Luzern im Spätmittelalter und in der Frühen Neuzeit, Historischer Abriss (Band I) und Quellenedition (Band II), Zürich 2009. 72 Greco-Kaufmann, Ein schön lústiges vnd nüwes spill, p. 445. 73 Ibid., p. 446. 213 Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge 74 See Peter Dinzelbacher and Dieter R. Bauer (eds.), Heiligenverehrung in Geschichte und Gegenwart, Ostfildern 1990; Arnold Angenendt, Heilige und Reliquien. Die Geschichte ihres Kultes vom frühen Christentum bis zur Gegenwart, München 1994; Martin Sallmann, “ Reformatoren und Brennpunkte konfessioneller Gedächtniskulturen: Martin Luther, Karl Borromäus und Johannes Calvin im Vergleich ” , in: Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Religions- und Kulturgeschichte 103 (2009), pp. 99 - 116; Wolfram Schneider-Lastin and Alfred Schindler (eds.), Die Badener Disputation von 1526, kommentierte Edition des Protokolls, Zürich 2015. In Lutheran Protestantism, worship of saints was also banned, but showing saints in theatre plays, in order to show examples of good behaviour to the public, was still allowed. 75 Instituto per le Scienze Religiose Bologna (ed.), “ Konzil von Trient. 25. Sitzung, 3. - 4. Dezember 1563: Heiligen- und Reliquienverehrung. Heilige Bilder ” , in: Dekrete der ökumenischen Konzilien, Besorgt von Giuseppe Alberigo et. al., Paderborn/ München/ Wien/ Zürich 1973, pp. 774 - 776, here: p. 774. 76 Velten, Performativitätsforschung. 77 Greco-Kaufmann and Huwiler, Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel. 78 Greco-Kaufmann, Ein schön lústiges vnd nüwes spill, p. 463. 79 Johann Zurflüe, Ein schön lústiges vnd nüwes spill. Von warhafftiger vnd wúnderbarlicher hystorj; oder läben vnnd stärben et cetera deß rächtfrommen, andächtigen gottsäligen, wyttberüempthe et cetera Nicláusen von der Flüe, den man nemptt Bruoder Claúß Ob dem wald zuo Vnderwalden jn der eydgenoschafft geboren, 1602, Staatsarchiv Obwalden, 02.LIT.0001. 80 See Elke Huwiler, “ Spieltext und Aufführung des Sarner Bruderklausenspiels von 1601 ” , in: Greco-Kaufmann/ id. 2017, pp. 413 - 443, here: pp. 423 - 424. 81 Niklaus von Flüe - Bruder Klaus - was not canonized yet at that time. However, he was treated and worshipped like a Saint by the people, and his official canonization was in progress. The play therefore does not differ from other Saint plays of the time. 82 Emmanuel O. S. B. Scherer, Das Bruder- Klausen-Spiel des P. Jakob Gretser S. J. vom Jahre 1586, Sarnen 1928. 83 See Huwiler, “ Spieltext und Aufführung ” , pp. 418 - 420. 84 See Greco-Kaufmann and Huwiler, Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel, p. 40, lines 305 - 306. 85 See Valentin Boltz, Der Weltspiegel, ed. by Friederike Christ-Kutter, Klaus Jaeger and Hellmut Thomke, Zürich 2013, p. 254, annotation at line 3524. 86 Karl Imfeld, Volksbräuche und Volkskultur in Obwalden, Kriens 2006, p. 174. 87 Greco-Kaufmann and Huwiler, Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel, p. 395. 88 See Huwiler, “ Spieltext und Aufführung ” , pp. 420 - 422. 89 Daniel Sidler, Heiligkeit aushandeln. Katholische Reform und lokale Glaubenspraxis in der Eidgenossenschaft (1560 - 1790), Frankfurt am Main 2017, p. 266. 90 “ To avert various threats or on political occasions, the officials of Obwalden organized processions to Sachseln in order to show that, according to the ‘ concensus populi ’ , they stood under the protection of Bruder Klaus ” , ibid. 91 Huwiler, “ Spieltext und Aufführung ” , p. 422. 92 See ibid., pp. 442 - 443. 214 Claudia Daiber/ Elke Huwiler Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia François Lecercle (Paris) From its very beginning in Greece, the stage has provoked hostile reactions. Between 1550 and 1850, this hostility produced a vast and repetitive body of treatises and polemical tracts. The debates were endlessly rewritten, giving the impression that most polemicists repeated their predecessors. But under the appearance of immobility, the terms of the debate were extremely sensitive to local conditions. We have to understand how the theatrophobic script is adapted to a specific conflict: the same part is performed in a different context, often taking on new meanings. To identify the forces at play and the various stakes, one must look for traces of the unwritten - the oral debates on which the writings drew - in order to reconstruct the economic, social, and political tensions hidden under the mainly religious surface. We have to look for the performance under the text. In practically all cultures, theatre has been a controversial activity and has elicited protests for centuries. The very first hostile reactions were in ancient Athens, in spite of the importance of drama in the life of Greek cities. Although theatre was central to their artistic, political, and religious culture, it was a source of violent dissent and vocal condemnation. One of the earliest tragedies known to us, by Phrynichus, 1 is the first known case of cultural censorship and public outrage in the Western world. Even Plato, who abandoned playwriting to follow the teaching of Socrates, found in the art of the actor the epitome of what must be rejected from his Republic. In early Christianity, a few major Church Fathers expressed even stronger hostility, most notably Tertullian, 2 John Chrysostom, and Augustine. Theatrophobia was prominent in their thinking because the rejection of spectacles became, for Christians, a visible sign of their break with the pagan way of life. The stage was a symbol of what must be avoided at all costs. Throughout the Middle Ages, debates about the theatre were rare, but they flared up again in the second half of the 16 th century in the form of a series of crises, generally with religious bases, from the 1570s to the 1850s. For nearly three centuries, these crises produced a formidable amount of printed matter. It is this massive production that is being explored by the “ Haine du Théâtre ” (HdT) project. 3 After the 1850s, rejection of theatre as such declined sharply. Today, hostility to the stage takes other forms. Theatres are now a constant source of scandals and public outcry. Performances are interrupted, people demonstrate, they demand censorship, but they never ask for theatres to be closed, as they were in London in 1642. For historians of theatre, theatrophobia is primarily text: a massive, repetitive, quasisolidified body of endlessly repeated arguments. These texts are of all kinds and sizes: from polemical tracts to elaborate analyses and from volatile attacks on a specific performance to articulate rejections of any kind of play. My main contention is that, if you consider theatrophobic discourse only as a mass of published texts, you miss the point, for two reasons. The first is that these publications are only the tip of the iceberg. It is not so much that there are unpublished manu- Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 215 - 227. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0020 scripts; it is not so much that there are always many more tracts to find; it is that under their massive and repetitive form, these texts hide an ever-changing reality. This is because the conflicts are constantly moving and redefining themselves. To understand these texts, we have to reconstruct the context that gives them their proper meaning. The second reason not to limit our understanding to these texts is that they are the solidified form of a debate which was essentially oral. We have to try to reconstruct the oral performances that lie behind the texts. Many of these texts, as I hope to show, arise from oral clashes. Theatrophobia has an essentially oral basis: it emanates from the pulpit, the stage, or the classroom before it reaches the printing press. But we must not view the printed version of these oral debates as a mere transcription, because the written form does not reflect entirely what was at stake in the oral performance. This produces the paradoxical impression that polemicists are constantly rewriting something that is basically unwritten because, most of the time, the printed text repeats the same story over and over, without revealing what is really at stake in a particular situation. Theatrophobia is a displaced debate, in which one attacks the stage in order to strike at another target. A Big, Pervasive and Repetitive Corpus The corpus of theatrophobic literature has three major characteristics: it is massive, pervasive, and repetitive; it is much bigger than previous explorations had suggested; 4 and it is composed of a great variety of texts. There is, of course, highly specialized literature: specific treatises and polemical tracts whose titles clearly announce a theatrophobic or theatrophile standpoint. These tracts should be easy to identify. Nevertheless, we have found a number of previously unknown texts, despite their titles (such as the first theatrophobic treatise published in France). 5 But these specialized tracts are relatively few, compared to the mass of works whose titles do not even mention the theatre. The vast majority of the corpus consists of publications that are unrelated to the stage and yet include a section on theatre. One finds such sections in medical treatises, travel literature, biblical commentaries, novels, political or legal literature, treatises on demonology, etc. One may wonder what theatrophobia has to do with medicine or demonology. Why medicine, for example? Because doctors, over the centuries, used the theatre in various, and at times contradictory ways. In the 5 th century, Caelius Aurelianus invented a theatrical cure for madness. 6 In contrast, some 18th century doctors stress the dangers of performances: according to them, women ’ s nerves are shattered by the violent emotions a tragedy unleashes. 7 Why demonology? Because the Devil is a powerful actor, who can impersonate anyone. Drama is, therefore, a typically diabolical art: the art of blurring distinctions between reality and illusion. 8 From the variety of topics that are prone to theatrophobic digressions, one can safely say that theatrophobia is pervasive. This is because the subject is not solely the concern of specialists: even if it was first a topic for priests and preachers, everyone is entitled to an opinion. It concerns everybody because it is directly related to everyday life, to the way one leads one ’ s life: theatrophobic debates are about the use of one ’ s free time, about the right to solace and entertainment (eutrapelia). This raises a related question about the power of the authorities to control these rights. It all goes back to the Church Fathers: in early Christianity, attending spectacles - or refusing to attend them - became a way of showing one ’ s rejection of a pagan way of life 9 . The same argument reappears in the 216 François Lecercle 16 th and 17 th centuries: it is especially prominent in the early sermons and tracts. Arguing against theatrical shows - and other forms of entertainment such as dancing, gambling, or games - became, for preachers and priests, a way of controlling the everyday lives of their flock. English puritans did so, at the turn of the 16 th and 17 th centuries, French Calvinists in the early 17 th century, and others afterwards. 10 The question concerns everyone: it is about tolerance of a free space in everyday life. And the debate goes on, with subtle variations. Well into the 18 th century, it took a more explicitly political stance, when debates on the theatre became an indirect means of discussing the relative powers of Church and State. Apologists for the stage claimed individuals ’ right to practice the pleasures of their choice, duly authorized by the State, without interference from the Church or self-appointed authorities. The debate turned to the possibility of a space in which only the law of the land would apply. It went so far as to advocate the separation of Church and State. 11 In other words, theatre invades all kinds of other debates, concerning the salvation of individuals, the way they may - or may not - lead their lives, or the relationship between the private and public spheres. The corpus is not just big and pervasive, it is repetitive. The debates seem static because most authors repeat their predecessors and use all their energy to compile texts and quotations rather than to devise new lines of argument. From volume to volume, the same arguments are made, time and time again; the same authorities are invoked and quoted. For that purpose, compilations were published. 12 This repetition is not specific to theatrophobia: the theological conflicts of the Reformation gave birth to a compiling frenzy. For theatrophobia, it led to massive treatises which inflated over time, as if authors were competing with one another. In 1633, William Prynne published 1200 pages; in the 1650s, Gian Domenico Ottonelli 1700 pages (in five volumes); and in the 1770s, abbé de La Tour 4200 pages (in 20 volumes). 13 There is a direct link between this propensity to compile and a historiographical approach, which allows theatrophobes to write, at the same time, the history of drama and the history of theatrophobia, in order to show that, through the centuries, the stage has always been perverse and the Church unanimous in forbidding and condemning. A Context-Sensitive Script One of the main paradoxes of this corpus is, static and repetitive as it may be, that the debates are always grounded in specific situations. Under this uniform surface, circumstances change, as do the opponents and the interests at stake. The same phenomenon occurs in other debates - over sacred images, for example. But theatrophobia is particularly adaptable. It is not an ongoing war; it is a succession of local skirmishes. Under the appearance of immobility, of ever-recurring arguments, the terms of the debate are extremely sensitive to local conditions. One has to read through the repetitive ‘ text ’ to understand how the theatrophobic script is adapted to a specific conflict: the same part is ‘ performed ’ in a different context, and what is at stake may change radically. The early theatrophobes developed a moral and religious argument which called for purity of manners and concern for one ’ s soul. But it was converted immediately into a question of religious orthodoxy and the need for control. If the theatrophobic debate was so successful for so long, it was because it covered a wide spectrum of problems and fields. 217 Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia First, theatrophobia was a useful instrument for responding to religious tension. This tension might be between rival religious groups; by attacking the stage one might hope to be seen as a righteous spiritual leader. But theatrophobia also catered for tension between religious denominations; at the turn of the 16 th and 17 th centuries, the theatre was a weapon for anti-papist crusades. In England, one might openly accuse Rome of replacing the Christian service with an idolatrous and theatrical spectacle. 14 In France, after the ‘ édit de Nantes ’ , Protestant tracts had to resort to more indirect attacks. 15 Second, theatrophobia is directly related to social tension because the theatre disturbed social hierarchies. Travelling companies were little more than vagabonds, 16 yet they found aristocratic protectors, especially in England where companies had aristocrats as official patrons. In Italy, companies were very clever at finding noble protectors and making connections. All this threatened social hierarchies. Actors were free electrons; they did not fit the established social structure. On the one hand, they were social outcasts: acting was not a real profession; it had no status, it was not attached to a guild - actors were little more than beggars and prostitutes. On the other hand, they had the ability to make connections in the highest spheres, to the envy of impoverished aristocrats. Third, these social and religious tensions were often likely to turn into political tensions, owing to power struggles between religious groups and secular powers. In this trial of strength, the stage became the locus of two conflicting views of drama. A long religious tradition considered the stage as a danger for private and public morals. But in the early 17 th century, a new secular conception viewed the stage not just as an embellishment of city and court life but as an instrument of prestige, capable of giving a nation a cultural supremacy that could become political influence. The most prominent proponent of this conception was in France, Cardinal Richelieu, who actively protected playwrights and theatre companies in the 1630s. The same policy was followed at the same time in Rome by Pope Urban VIII, and, on a much smaller scale, by Prince Frederik-Hendrik of Orange-Nassau in The Hague. The English court had an active theatrical life as well, even if it did not consider the stage as a means of international recognition. 17 Fourth, theatrophobia is a good observatory for economic tensions, because theatrical performances were a new activity that could be very profitable and yet have disturbing effects. In particular, it infringed on the time traditionally devoted to other activities. The early treatises stress not only the depravity of performances, they also emphasize the waste of time. This was not a new argument: it was already prominent among the Church Fathers. The argument was taken up by theatrophobes at the turn of the 16 th and 17 th centuries, but with a different significance. For 16 th and early 17 thcentury tracts, performances did not just waste the time of the audience (meaning: the audience should, instead, be taking care of its soul), they stole it, 18 because actors draw spectators away from more useful devotional pursuits and from those in charge of those pursuits, i. e. priests and preachers. It was in England that these economic tensions were most visible. It is no coincidence that the authors of the first theatrophobic tracts were preachers because their profession felt the danger of the theatre directly. By accusing the stage of unfair competition, 19 they assumed that actors stole from the Church: they take up time which the spectators should spend in Church, and they take money which the spectators should give to the poor (that is, to the Church, which takes care of the poor). 20 Polemicists were 218 François Lecercle trying to kill two birds with one stone: by caring for the souls of their flock, they were caring for their own interests. It is worth dwelling a little on this, because it is a good example of the adaptability of the theatrophobic script, of the way theatrophobes used old phrases to convey new meanings. To express this economic competition between preachers and actors, theatrophobes resorted to the language of the Church Fathers. Tertullian, Cyprian of Carthage, John Chrysostom, Salvian of Marseilles, etc. 21 compare the stage and the Church, by way of a recurring metaphor, denouncing the stage as the church or the temple of the Devil: theatrum, ecclesia diaboli. In early Christianity, the phrase ecclesia diaboli serves to condemn spectacles as a pagan - and therefore diabolical - activity. 22 Taken up by reformed preachers, the phrase takes on new values. It still aims at a radical condemnation of theatrical performances, but it implies much more: not just the appalling nature of those diversions, but the fact that they try to overthrow the sovereignty of God on earth. At the very beginning of the Christian era, Christians were fighting pagan beliefs and practices in order to establish the Church of Christ. The Church Fathers likened spectacles to a ‘ Church of Satan ’ in order to prevent new Christians from relapsing into paganism by reverting to old entertainments. Christians were newcomers seeking to overcome an old rival. In the 16 th century, the roles are reversed: the stage is a dangerous new rival to the Church. The metaphor has an economic as well as a religious meaning. The ‘ Church of Satan ’ is not just a danger for individuals, it is a menace to the Church. It diverts the faithful, prevents them from attending services, and reduces priests and preachers to inactivity or even unemployment. In England, it has an explicitly economic value. Preachers repeatedly petitioned the Crown to forbid performances on Sundays, or at least during services, because they saw their parishioners deserting them. Not only were the souls of their flock threatened, their own trade and their living were also at risk. 23 The old phrases assume new values; it is not that the meaning changes completely: ‘ Satan ’ s Church ’ means that theatrical spectacles are dangerous pastimes, in the 16 th century as well as in the 3 rd or 4 th centuries, but the moral and religious censure takes on a decidedly economic dimension. Economic, social, and political tensions are expressed through moral and religious discourse; preachers, who account for the best part of the early tracts, use the language of their trade to formulate their agenda. Their tracts feed off the Church Fathers, on whose arguments they depend heavily. Their texts therefore, are often the result of a negotiation between the patristic script and the concrete situation of the authors, who apply the fulminations of the Church Fathers to their own needs. The Tensions Beneath the Script These tensions are difficult to perceive because the treatises rarely reveal what is really at stake. To discover that, one has to go ‘ behind the scenes ’ , if one can. A good example is the most famous French treatise, Bossuet ’ s Maximes et Réflexions Sur la Comédie (Paris, 1694). It was published in reaction to a short tract by Father Caffaro 24 , an Italian preacher living in Paris. Caffaro gave a very moderate view of the position of the Catholic Church on the theatre. The Church, he argued, has never condemned the stage but only the excesses of some indecent plays. Bossuet ’ s answer is one of the most fully articulated presentations of the intrinsic depravity of theatrical performances. He resorts to all the main arguments: moral 219 Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia arguments, the moral looseness of plays; psychological arguments, the contamination of the passions; social arguments, the promiscuousness of performances; historical arguments, the unanimous condemnation from Plato to the present; and dogmatic arguments, the doctrine of the Church. Bossuet recycles all these arguments but with an added polemical value, because he reinforces them by making them interlock. His treatise became immediately famous. It was quickly translated into English 25 (which was very rare). It was hugely influential and provoked a sudden flourishing of tracts. Surprisingly, Bossuet may have been, in fact, a rather mild opponent of the stage. He is supposed to have expressed, at times, a lenient view of plays. 26 This discrepancy can be explained if one considers the circumstances of the dispute, for which we have an important witness, Abbé Legendre, who places the whole affair in a new light in his Mémoires. 27 According to Legendre, when Caffaro ’ s letter appeared, it went largely unnoticed. No one paid much attention except the Jesuits, who started to call attention to it and to stir outrage among their followers. They were not appalled by the content of the letter, but they had an ongoing war with the Archbishop of Paris and wanted to put him in a difficult position. When the outcry started, the Archbishop faced a dilemma: either he let the letter pass, thereby antagonizing the Catholic traditionalists, or he reacted strongly and became the laughingstock of polite society. In this case, the stage was just a pretext. The real purpose, for those who ignited the public outrage, was a war of influence between rival religious groups. Bossuet joined in, probably with different aims in view. His most conspicuous aim was, of course, the explicit purpose: to establish, beyond doubt, that the stage was harmful and had always been considered as such. A less obvious purpose is a show of force; Bossuet wanted to be the most powerful authority in the French Church, although he was just the Archbishop of a small town (Meaux). Attacking the stage was part of a power game: he ensured his own preeminence at the expense of a preacher, who was forced to eat humble pie. 28 Bossuet forced Caffaro into the humiliating position of disavowing what he had written. A third purpose is even more indirect: Bossuet joined forces with the Archbishop not so much to help him as to counter the Jesuits with whom he was in conflict. This web of implicit purposes does not imply that Bossuet expressed an opinion he did not really share, but it means that he had another agenda in which the stage was far from being central. In such a case, the text is only one factor in a complex situation. It is important because it will remain: people will use it and quote it; it will reach a vast audience through time and space. It is important also because it made the year 1694 the most productive for theatrophobic tracts in France. At least ten volumes appeared in the following weeks, resulting in what historians call ‘ the Caffaro affair ’ , one of the most prominent crises about the stage. 29 These followers also had their own agenda: to benefit from Bossuet ’ s success and to make a name for themselves; to ingratiate themselves with one of the most powerful men in the Church; and to present themselves as paragons of virtue or even spiritual leaders. Raging against the stage was also a means of empowerment; it gave a priest control of the personal lives of his flock. From this case we may safely conclude that what is written on the page is one thing and what is really at stake may be another. The text has a life of its own: it will be repeated, quoted, translated. But this life is quite independent of the original purposes of the text, for both its author and the first readers. Theatre crises, therefore, are twofold. There is a stable and durable element: the writings. The majority repeat what has 220 François Lecercle already been published many times, and remains to be re-used: repeated, quoted, paraphrased, exported, translated, invoked as an authority, etc. Bossuet is a particularly good example of this durability and exportability of the written word. But there is also a much more volatile element, which puts the conflict in a different light. In many cases, approval or rejection of the stage is not the whole of the matter. It is not a question of hypocrisy. Polemicists are certainly convinced of the dangers of the stage; nevertheless, they also use their attack for purposes which are not apparent in the text but which the original readers perceive. The attacks that are implicit in the written text become explicit in the social context, in oral reactions and comments made at the time. The issues were discussed even before these polemicists wrote and published - this is the hidden part of the iceberg. To better understand what is going on, one must try to find traces of these discussions (as in the Memoirs of Abbé Legendre) or, in their absence, one must try to reconstruct the logic of the polemics. By nature, polemics are dialogues, but in most cases, we only have a one-sided version. In the Caffaro case, the problem is not that we don ’ t hear the other side, it is that the dialogue is not just between two sides, it implies an intricate web of protagonists. On the written page, it is all about morals, about the duties of a Christian, about the tradition of the Church. Beyond the page, it is about power (who is the legitimate spokesman for the Church? ), about orthodoxy, and about tensions between competing groups. The whole matter is at the intersection of the religious and the political. In other cases, the debate has little to do with protecting the morals of the people or caring for their spiritual needs because the theatre is merely a scapegoat. A good example is the first extensive debate about the stage in France. The Stage as Scapegoat: Paris, 1541 This debate never reached the press. It took place in 1541, in a trial at the Parliament of Paris, where Parisian merchants who financed the performance of mystery plays were prosecuted for causing public disturbances and being responsible for a fast decrease in alms for the poor. 30 During the trial, practically all the arguments ever used against the stage were brought forth: it is immoral; it makes a travesty of the Holy Scriptures; it mocks religion; it incites citizens to idleness, drunkenness, and lewd behaviour; it disturbs the peace; it perturbs economic activity; it leads to disrespect of the authorities; and it spreads a spirit of insubordination. Already all the arguments that theatrophobes will ever think of are voiced, except one: the dissolute life of theatre companies. It is absent for a very good reason: such companies did not yet exist. 31 One of the main deciding factors in the case was that mystery plays were becoming more and more elaborate and more costly to produce. Consequently, the price of seats rose tremendously. The prosecution argued that these performances were directly responsible for a sharp decrease in alms and endangered the current welfare system, thereby establishing a direct link between the prosperity of the theatre and the increased difficulty of providing for the poor. The archives clearly show that economic factors featured prominently in the prosecution ’ s case: mystery plays were accused of ruining the city of Paris, and even the kingdom. Alms did decrease in the 1530s and 1540s, for reasons that today ’ s historians are unable to explain but, in this case, the stage is a scapegoat: why hold it responsible rather than places that were notoriously unruly, such as taverns? One of the main reasons for putting the blame on the stage is that theatre performances were becoming 221 Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia important economic ventures and were triggering social changes that disturbed some of the elite. The stage was an ideal culprit, responsible for all social problems: the depletion of alms, public drunkenness, brawls, and adultery. The prosecution, at the trial, held mystery plays accountable for practically all social ills. 32 This is significant: when a debate does not reach the printing press, the non-religious stakes are much more evident. The Performance Behind the Script There is an element of role-playing in theatrophobia. Theatrophobes take up a script to adapt it to a new context and to their own needs. In most cases, it is not a free adaptation: theatrophobes follow the steps of their predecessors and quote them as if they were saying the same thing, when, in fact, they are bending the argument. I have, so far, mostly spoken of a script and the ways it can be subtly altered. It is now time to deal with the fundamentally oral basis of many of these texts. It may be risky to generalize, but a good part, at least, of theatrophobic literature is directly linked to oral performance. Among the texts published between 1570 and 1850, notable parts were written versions of oral interventions: sermons, of course, but also orations, exhortations - all kinds of public speaking. At the beginning of the period, many published texts have direct links to preaching. In England, many of the first tracts were written by preachers, such as John Northbrooke, Thomas White, John Field, and Thomas Becon. 33 In France, the conflict had been going on for decades before the first publications. Chronicles and political pamphlets of the 1580s mention preachers raging against the stage, 34 which proves that theatrophobia had an oral life well before it found one in print 35 . Theatrophobia even played a part in the French religious wars. Catholic extremists took up arms against the stage, in order to radicalize the conflict by attacking any kind of profane entertainment. Then Protestants attacked Catholics for turning the mass into theatre, and they continued to do so, in the first published tracts of the early 17 th century. The first three were written by the Protestant parsons Daniel Tilenus (op. cit., 1600), André Rivet (Instruction Chrestienne Touchant les Spectacles Publics des Comoedies et Tragoedies, The Hague, 1639), and Philippe Vincent (Traitté des Theatres, La Rochelle, 1647). They confirm that Calvinist preachers actively tried to prevent their parishioners from indulging in entertainments that would give a bad reputation to the Protestant cause and set a bad example to the community. The 1639 treatise is an adaptation, for the general public, of lessons on the third commandment that André Rivet, professor of theology at the Leyden Academy, had given in Latin for an international audience of future Calvinist preachers. Rivet had already published his lessons as a Latin commentary on the Decalogue. 36 The text which gave him a pretext to lecture about the stage was Exodus XX: 14, “ Thou shall not commit adultery. ” It is rather far-fetched to give a prominent place to theatrical spectacles when commenting on the interdiction of adultery, 37 but preachers had an obligation to warn people against the dangers of the stage. This, therefore, had to be part of the curriculum of the future parsons and preachers who were to watch over the morals of the Calvinist community. In times of religious disputes and tensions, inside and outside the community, it was deemed important to control parishioners by all means, to reinforce a community of views and behaviour, in order to avoid any looseness, whether moral or doctrinal. For Rivet, guiding future preachers was not enough; the 222 François Lecercle topic deserved a wider audience. This is why he converted a learned lecture on the Bible for future preachers to a didactic work for the general public. The French volume is much smaller and much less erudite than the Latin in-folio. The avowed purpose is to police Protestant society because moral standards are slipping. Rivet addressed two audiences at once: those who would be tempted by a less rigorous way of life and those who needed arguments to convince their dissolute neighbours to revert to the upright tradition of their fathers. The volume is, therefore, one link in an oral chain. It emanates from lectures to future preachers, and it aims not just to convince readers but to give them arguments they will use with their neighbours. This is why the small volume concludes with didactic summaries, ready to be memorized and used orally. But there is also another dimension to these admonitions. When a strict Calvinist censures the behaviour of his fellow citizens, it may imply a de facto attack on the Prince. This is what happened with Rivet ’ s treatise. If he wanted to reach a wider public than his Latin lesson on Exodus, it was not just to address the public at large instead of future parsons, he did so under very specific circumstances. For the marriage of his sister-in-law, in The Hague in February 1638, Frederik- Hendrik, prince of Orange-Nassau, organized magnificent festivities with theatrical performances. For this, he invited a French theatre company. He gave them a huge gratification, but the company asked for more: they wanted the Prince to build a proper theatre for them. 38 In this context, publicly lashing out at actors takes on an obvious political flavour; it is an indirect criticism of the Prince and his public policy. It also means that, by openly disapproving of the attitude of the Prince, the Church was trying to infringe on his prerogatives. The volume in French was not just motivated by a pedagogical effort towards a larger public, it was also a reply to the pernicious whims of the Prince. Text and Performance Rivet ’ s treatise is, in part, a prop for future oral use. This is not the only case. I have briefly mentioned the compilations that grew in size from edition to edition. They often provided indexes which offered future polemicists a hoard of ready-made arguments and quotations. In one case, there is a direct link between such compilations and oral polemics. One of the first compilations is a theatrophile collection, Trattato Sopra l ’ Arte Comica Cavato dall ’ Opere di S. Tomaso e da Altri Santi etc. [A Treatise on the Comic Art, Extracted from the Works of S. Thomas and Other Saints], published in Lyon in 1601, under the name of the capocomico P. M. Cecchini. 39 It is a small collection of positive quotes about the stage by Church Fathers and well-known theologians. It was prepared by an erudite monk, at Cecchini ’ s request. 40 In the late 16 th century, capocomici had taken over the defence of their art. The most famous (Andreini, Cecchini, Beltrame) wrote treatises in the early 1600s. They had to fight on two fronts: they had to defend the stage in general and to fight for the social and cultural recognition of their companies. Because they were clever at making connections and finding aristocratic protectors, they were under attack all the more. This collection of quotes is not a proper defence of the stage, because it is not meant to convince a reader of the usefulness of drama. In a sense, one might say that it is meant to be used rather than read. A collection of such excerpts has an obviously practical purpose: to be used as a basis for discussion and debate. It was certainly intended to enable theatre companies to reply 223 Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia to their opponents, to counter Tertullian with Thomas Aquinas or Antoninus of Florence (15 th century), and this is why it was published so many times under the names of various capocomici. In this case, the published text is meant to provide material that will be used in oral polemics. We have at least one example of such use. In 1607, during a theatre festival in Bourges (a university town in the centre of France), a Jesuit delivered a violent sermon against the stage, threatening to excommunicate those who attended the performances rather than his sermons. It is one of those little skirmishes which nourish the day-to-day life of debates about the theatre. We wouldn ’ t know about this anonymous Jesuit if it hadn ’ t been for an actor and company leader called La Porte. He replied, from the stage, with a prologue which received some attention and circulated as a manuscript. It was archived, at the time, by a famous collector of historical documents. 41 This prologue is a direct reply to the Jesuit. It draws largely on the Italian collection of quotes in order to vindicate the theatre. It is also a vicious and clever attack on the Company of Jesus, with accusations and even threats 42 . The Jesuits, La Porte claims, attack the theatre but they practice it in their colleges for mercenary reasons - to get more money from their pupils. Given their allegiance to a foreign power (the Pope), they are always prone to treason. They are known regicides and had been expelled from France for that reason: they might be expelled again. La Porte also claims that theatre companies are instruments of social harmony and, as such, have powerful protectors. If the Jesuits attack, he warns, they will learn at their expense that theatre companies are not to be trifled with. In this oral version of the conflict, the stakes are more visible. The threats and accusations are not explicit, but they are transparent and meant to be understood at once by the audience. Under the thin veil of moral and religious righteousness, it is easy to grasp the economic and political stakes. The Jesuits had recently been readmitted to France; they had come back to Bourges and reopened their college. For them, stopping the theatre festival was a means of recovering their social influence, showing that, once again, they were the main ideological power in the city. For their part, theatre companies had to strike back to preserve a thriving theatre festival which helped them make their living, improve their reputation, and find new customers, since delegates from other cities came to the festival to choose companies to invite back to their cities. Published treatises develop moral and religious arguments through which we can guess the economic and political tensions at play. In oral debates, when we are lucky enough to find one documented, there is less need to decipher because the power struggle is much more obvious and the attacks thinly disguised - just enough to be threats rather than blows and to keep the enemy at bay. The history of theatrophobia is not a chronicle of the successive variations of a repetitive script. To follow the development of the debate, one has to reconstruct the various tensions (religious and moral, but also social, political, and economic) which are expressed through this script. One has to understand the ever-changing agendas and the stakes involved. Even if the arguments vary little, they are taken up in different frameworks which give them new meanings. Theatrophobia, therefore, is not just a vast body of texts, diffused in many disciplines and genres. Insofar as it is highly polemical, theatrophobic discourse always implies some kind of performance. It is often the written form of an oral intervention, whether a sermon or a lesson. Since it aims at convincing a listener/ reader, or silencing an opponent, it implies a hic et nunc confrontation of speakers. 224 François Lecercle To understand how the moral and religious issues are converted into economic and political questions, one has to go beyond the texts, and to use what we know of their context to reconstruct the conflict: its circumstances, the interests at stake, the forces at work. To see what is going on, we can use the documentation of clashes in a specific context, where the underlying tensions are more visible. It does not mean that all clashes follow the same pattern and are based on the same conflicts of interest, but we can learn from them how general arguments cover power relations that, for a long time, historians of theatrophobia have tended to minimize or even ignore. Forty years ago, academia was ‘ textocentric ’ : everything was a text to decipher, from the behavioural patterns of monkeys to fashion trends. I wouldn ’ t go so far as to claim we should be ‘ performo-centric ’ , but as far as theatrophobia is concerned we should definitely watch for traces of performance. One place to look is, of course, in the work of dramatists, because they had to deal with an ever-present enemy. From Shakespeare to Molière or Goldoni, it was a common temptation to strike back at censors, but addressing this would require another paper. Notes 1 Phrynichus, The Capture of Miletus, ca. 490 BC. 2 Who is not strictly speaking a Church Father. 3 See the website of the “ Hatred of the Stage ” project, directed by C. Thouret and myself at Paris-Sorbonne University, http: / / obvil. paris-sorbonne.fr/ projets/ la-haine-du-theatre [accessed 13 May 2021]. 4 There are French, English and Italian bibliographies on the HdT website (http: / / obvil. paris-sorbonne.fr/ corpus/ haine-theatre/ bibliographie_querelle-france/ ), soon to be followed by a German one. 5 Treatise of Comic and Tragic Playing, Sedan 1600, an anonymous work which can be attributed to a Silesian Lutheran, Daniel Tilenus. 6 Caelius Aurelianus proposes an allopathic treatment for manic patients: make them watch a play that is totally opposed to their humour. See On Acute Diseases, I.5. 7 See Edme-Pierre Chauvot de Beauchêne, De l ’ influence des affections de l ’ âme dans les maladies nerveuses des femmes, Amsterdam 1783, p. 33. 8 On the relationship between theatrophobia and demonology, see my article “ Vacillements de l ’ illusion. Dédiabolisation de la magie et rediabolisation du théâtre (1570 - 1650) ” , in: Kirsten Dickhaut (ed.), Kunst der Täuschung - Art of Deseption. Über Status und Bedeutung von ästhetischer und dämonischer Illusion in der Frühen Neuzeit (1400 - 1700) in Italien und Frankreich, Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz, 2016, pp. 255 - 271. 9 This is a recurrent topic in early Christian predication. See, for example, the beginning of John Chrysostomus ’ s Homilia contra ludos et theatra, (Migne, Patrologia Graeca, 55, 273 ff.). 10 For England, see, among others, Margot Heineman, Puritanism and Theatre, Cambridge 1982. For France, see my article “ An Elusive Controversy: The Beginnings of Polemics Against the Stage in France ” , in: Logan J. Connors (ed.), Writing Against the Stage: Anti-Theatrical Discourse in Early Modern Europe, Restoration and Eighteenth-Century Theatre Research, 2015, 29/ 1, p. 17 - 34. 11 See Huerne de La Mothe, Liberté de la France, Amsterdam 1761. 12 For example, the famous treatise by the Prince de Conti, Traité de la Comédie et des spectacles. Selon la tradition de l ’ Eglise. Tiré des Conciles & des Saints Pères, Paris 1666, compiles quotations from Church Fathers and Councils. The treatise itself is 30 pages long, the various anthologies over 240 pages. Defenders of the stage also had compilations prepared for them; see n. 39. 225 Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia 13 William Prynne, Histrio-Mastix. The Players Scourge or Actors Tragaedie, London 1633; Giovanni-Domenico Ottonelli, Della Christiana Moderatione del Teatro, Firenze 1646 - 1655; Bertrand de La Tour, Réflexions Morales, Politiques, Historiques et Littéraires Sur le Théâtre, Avignon 1763 - 1778. 14 See, for example, John Rainolds, Th'overthrow of stage-playes, [Middelburg] 1599, p. 161. But as early as 1559, in The Displaying of the Popish Mass, Thomas Becon denounced mass as an idolatry, a mockery, a mummery of the priest with “ apish toys ” (see the ed. London, 1637, p. 298). 15 For example, by linking the condemnation of the stage to the purity of life that Protestants embody; see Philippe Vincent, Traitté des theatres, La Rochelle 1647, chap. 4. 16 The Proclamation of January 1572 and the Vagabonds Act of June 1572 included “ common players ” in the undesirable groups which had to be controlled. 17 On Richelieu ’ s theatre policy, see Deborah Blocker, Instituer un ‘ Art ’ . Politiques du Théâtre Dans la France du Premier XVII e Siècle, Paris 2009. On the theatre practice of the papal court, the collection of studies and documents published by Alesssandroo Ademollo (I Teatri di Roma nel Secolo Decimosettimo, Rome 1888) has not yet been replaced. On Frederik-Wilhelm, see Ubalo Floris, Teorici, Teologi e Istrioni. Per e Contro il Teatro Nella Francia del Cinque-Seicento, Roma 2008, p. 213 ff. On the political use of spectacles in Elizabethan England, see Olivier Spina, Une Ville en Scènes. Pouvoirs et Spectacles à Londres Sous les Tudors (1525 - 1603), Paris 2013. 18 The waste of time is the second evil of performances that Philippe Vincent denounces (op. cit., p. 6 - 7, for which theatergoers will be accountable to God. 19 See, for example, Philip Stubbes, The Anatomie of Abuses, London 1583, f. L8. The same argument was already prominent in a famous case against entrepreneurs of mystery plays, judged by the Paris Parliament in 1541. See below “ The stage as scapegoat ” . 20 This is explicit in the 1541 case at the Paris Parliament where mystery plays were held responsible for a sharp decrease of alms, see below. 21 Tertullian (2 nd c.), Cyprian of Carthage (3 rd c.), John Chrysostom (4 th c.), Salvian of Marseilles (5 th c.). 22 The idea that the stage is the church of the devil or the temple of demons is recurrent in Tertullian ’ s De Spectaculis (see XXIV, 5 and XXVII, 3), the most quoted of ancient theatrophobic treatises. 23 See, Heineman, Puritanism and Theatre. 24 Francesco Caffaro, Lettre d'un théologien illustre par sa qualité et son mérite consulté par l'auteur pour savoir si la Comédie peut être permise, ou doit être absolument défendue, p. 1 - 75, in Pièces de théâtre de Boursault, Paris 1694 25 Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, Maxims and Reflections upon Plays, London 1699. An Italian translation was also published, slightly later, in 1705. See the bibliographies on the HdT website. 26 See Joseph de La Porte and Jean-Marie-Bernard Clément, Anecdotes Dramatiques, Paris 1775, vol. 2, pp. 433 ff. 27 They were only published in Paris, in 1863. He was the secretary of the Archbishop of Paris. 28 Caffaro was not a social nonentity; he had connections in the aristocracy, and he played a notable role in his order. 29 The main documents have been published by Charles Urbain and Eugène Levesque, L'Eglise et le Théâtre, Paris 1930, pp. 67 - 165. 30 The documents were edited in the 17th c. and there are two modern editions. I have edited them, in an improved and annotated version, on the HdT website and analysed them in “ La Polémique Avant la Polémique: l ’ Affaire du Parlement de Paris, 1541 ” , in François Lecercle and Clotilde Thouret (eds.), La Haine du Théâtre, vol. 1: Controverses et polémiques, Littératures classiques, 98 (2019), pp. 51 - 64. See also Floris, Teorici, Teologi e Istrioni, chap. 5. 31 Medieval historians - Marie Bouhaïk-Gironès and Katell Lavéant in particular - have found contracts for professional performers as early as the last quarter of the 15 th c. but no stable and well-known professional com- 226 François Lecercle pany is attested in France before the end of the 16 th c. 32 It left durable traces: until 1942, spectacles in France had to pay a special “ poverty tax ” ( “ droit des pauvres ” ) as if they contributed to the increase in poverty. See Floris, Teorici, Teologi e Istrioni. 33 John Northbrooke, Treatise Wherein Dicing, Dauncing, Vaine Plaies or Enterludes [. . .] are Reproved, London 1577; Thomas White, A Sermo[n] Preached at Pawles Crosse, London 1578; John Field, A Godly Exhortation by Occasion of the Late Judgement of God, London 1583; Becon, The Displaying of the Popish Masse. 34 See, for example, Nicolas Rolland du Plessis Remonstrances tres-humbles au roy de France & de Pologne Henry troisiesme de ce nom [. . .], s. l., 1588, p. 131. 35 The first printed treatise, by Tilenus, dates from 1601 (see above, n. 5), but there are few French tracts before the second half of the 17th century. 36 André Rivet, Praelectiones in Cap. XX. Exodi: in Quibus [. . .] Explicatur Decalogus [. . .], The Hague 1632. 37 The Latin word for ‘ commit adultery ’ is moechari. Moecha means adulteress or courtesan, hence the link with the stage, since actors and especially actresses are considered little more than prostitutes. 38 See Floris, Teorici, Teologi e Istrioni, chap. 7. 39 It had many editions, at least 10, in the early 1600s, published under the names of other famous actors, such as Andreini and Barbieri. On this collection, see Michael Desprez, “ Un Témoignage de la Première Querelle du Théâtre - Le Prologue de La Porte ” , in: Société Japonaise de Langue et Littérature Françaises 95 (2009), pp. 56 ff., https: / / www.jstage.jst.go.jp/ article/ ellf/ 95/ 0/ 95_KJ00007641680/ _article/ -char/ ja/ [accessed 13 May 2021]. 40 Cecchini gives the name of the author of the compilation, a Servite called Hippolito da Pistoia, in his dedication, Trattato Sopra l ’ Arte Comica, Lyon 1601, p. 4. 41 Two manuscripts have been preserved and were edited, but with mistakes. I have edited an improved version on the HdT website. On this case, see Michael Desprez, art. cit. and, by the same author, “ Du texte de ‘ conjointure ’ dans la constitution du comédien professionnel: le cas du Prologue de La Porte, comédien à Bourges, contre les Jésuites ” , in: Sylvie Requemora-Gros (ed.), Voyages, rencontres, échanges au XVIIe siècle, Marseille carrefour, Tübingen 2017, pp. 443 - 452. 42 In my edition of the text, I have stressed La Porte ’ s various explicit or implicit arguments. In support of this very brief analysis, see my online annotation. 227 Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered Clotilde Thouret (Nancy) The controversies about theatre in Europe call for a redefinition of the place and role of theatre in society, and doing so, they invite us to rethink the historiography of theatre (in terms of scale, of objects and of canon). In the light of the controversies, new perspectives may be opened on playwrights and plays. This is particularly the case for spectatorship, which lies at the crossroads of three different historical paths (cultural and aesthetic, scientific and anthropological and theologico-political) and requires an aesthetical approach inspired by pragmatism, since polemical texts aim at the theatrical experience and even more precisely at the uses of the performance by the spectator. Finally, considering responses of Jonson, Shakespeare and Corneille to antitheatrical discourse, this article suggests the emergence, in early modern Europe, of the figure of a singular spectator. Recent trends in literary criticism tend to combine approaches from fields such as history, philosophy, literary theory, and cognitive sciences. This approach, which blurs the frontiers between disciplines, can be interpreted as the counterpart of the unifying tendency, since the end of the 20 th century, to reaffirm the connection between art and life, or the link between literary texts and the world, often in terms of exchange and sharing. New historicism has been one of the most influential trends in this respect. In contrast to its focus on the ‘ production ’ side, other critical works concentrate on the ‘ reception ’ side of this cultural phenomenon. 1 They participate in what is called the ‘ ethical turn ’ but not exclusively; the object of analysis is more broadly the aesthetic experience of literature, its specificities, and the ways in which literary texts allow for mediations and subjective appropriations by the reader or spectator. This critical inflection is not without connections to the development of the history of emotions or the renewed influence of philosophical pragmatism, which locates aesthetic analysis in the relation between the receptor and the work of art and suggests taking into account what art does rather than what it is (since a work of art has no intrinsic properties). In this perspective, it is interesting to study controversies about the theatre in Europe 2 and the way they articulate text and performance, since it implies a reconsideration of spectatorship and a new understanding of what a theatrical event is. Polemical texts deal with the effects the theatre may have on the public and their possible dangers; by doing so, they aim at the theatrical experience and even more precisely at the spectator ’ s uses of the performance. But to grasp what is at stake in narratives and descriptions of reception, one has to draw on cultural history, historical anthropology, and an aesthetic approach inspired by philosophical pragmatism. These texts imply a reconsideration of the spectator in historical terms and a rethinking of the history of spectatorship. A Renewed History of the Controversies Hostility to the theatre and to spectacles reemerged in Italy and in England in the 1570s, Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 228 - 237. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0021 and afterwards in other European countries. It manifested itself in a number of crises, which led to the publication of treatises, pamphlets, sermons, episcopal pastorals, and reports to the authorities. It led to vindications and defences in as many different forms, and to plays as well. Previous scholarship on the subject focused mainly on the arguments and the topics of the debates. 3 The approach we developed in the “ Hatred of the stage ” (Haine du Théâtre) project, instead, is more rooted in cultural history. In fact, these debates are closely linked to the professionalization and institutionalization of theatre as a cultural practice. We believed that the controversies should be reconsidered in this light and this has led us to suggest some changes in their historiography: changes in terms of scale, in terms of objects, and in terms of discourses and literary genres. In terms of scale, first, it was necessary to expand the scope to Europe and to narrow it down to specific events. The discourse of the enemies of theatre and, to a lesser extent, that of its defenders is based on the condemnations of the Church Fathers and of Antiquity; the polemical texts and their ideas circulate throughout Europe, as do some theatre troupes; in a word, controversies about the theatre are a European phenomenon. But as Ubaldo Floris and Deborah Blocker 4 have shown for some French episodes, understanding polemical texts implies knowing exactly what is going on locally and what the political and social positions of the authors are. It requires developing a fine contextualization. For example, the ‘ Guerra polemic ’ at the end of the 17 th century in Spain cannot be understood without taking into account a former political conflict between Guerra, the Trinitarian Friar, who wrote a defence of the theatre, and the Jesuits, who launched an attack against it. 5 Fine contextualization also sheds new light on topical arguments: the example of the Roman emperor Augustus as a protector of theatre is often interpreted as a demand for intervention on the part of the king. There is also a change in terms of objects. The history of the controversies is the history of the theatre, but it is also political, social and religious history. In these conflicts, economic and political dimensions are essential, and the theatre is a kind of alternate battleground for political and religious conflicts. 6 Furthermore, through the polemics, quarrels, and scandals, one realizes that what is at stake is the role and place of theatre in society. It is particularly salient for the first half of the 17 th century, but it remains true afterwards, even if formulated in more specific terms (I am thinking, for example, of the debate surrounding the comic in France in the 18 th century). As a consequence, the history of controversies has to focus especially on the relations and exchanges between the stage, the state and the market, and more specifically, the emergent cultural market. 7 The third change concerns the classification of texts: the actual corpus of controversies blurs the frontier between polemical texts and dramatic texts, and between discourse and fiction, since a significant part of the defences are to be found in plays. For example, Cervantes ’ Pedro de Urdemalas, Lope de Vega ’ s Lo Fingido Verdadero, and A Midsummer Night ’ s Dream may be read as defences of theatre, and more specifically as defences of the actor and his art. With its dialogues about obscene jokes and female spectatorship, Molière ’ s La Critique de l ’ Ecole des Femmes takes part in the controversies about the theatre and not only in the quarrel about the play. Reading the texts of the controversies illuminates allusions and hints in the plays and leads to the identification of their polemical dimension and to new interpretations. This historicization also has consequences for the analysis of theatrical experi- 229 In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered ence. Cultural history and theatre studies have already renewed our concept of a theatrical event by adding the dimension of the conditions of performance: how the show is produced, when, by whom, where, and in front of whom. It is now time to consider more directly the audience, to take into account the conditions of reception and their history, and in doing so, to try to identify an appropriate epistemology for the spectator. After a few remarks on the access we have to early modern theatrical experience, I will identify the ‘ dimensions ’ of early modern spectatorship: i. e. the systems of constraints and concepts (in terms of anthropology, ideology, aesthetics, etc.) that determine reception, or rather receptions. Finally, focusing on texts by Jonson, Corneille, and Shakespeare, I will try to explore these dimensions and see how they suggest some shifts or reconfigurations of categories for analysing spectators ’ responses. Where is Early Modern Theatrical Experience to be Found? The study of theatrical effects encounters a major obstacle: we have no direct access to them. First, because they are composed of thoughts and emotions. Second, because the here and now of performance is forever behind us. We have texts but we do not have access to performances; nevertheless, we have texts on performances, narratives of performances. Furthermore, theatrical effects or emotions belong to the social world: they depend on the context of their expression, and as such, they are objects of history. Narratives and descriptions of theatrical emotions and/ or performances appear in very different discursive contexts: polemical texts, poetic treatises, gazettes, anecdotes, memoranda to the authorities, police reports, and official records of spectacular events. They also appear in dramatic criticism, which emerged in the second half of the 17 th century: this is a collection of texts that reflect the spectator ’ s point of view and refer to a specific performance. They can be found in memoirs, journals, prefaces, letters, novels, and poetry. 8 These records of the audience ’ s passions and emotions are contained in very different discursive forms; and they are obviously determined by the logic and the aim of the discourse in which they appear. As a consequence, it is impossible to treat them as direct evidence, as testimonies describing accurately and truthfully the emotions aroused by a performance. They are only traces that give mediated access to past representations. Nevertheless, they can be helpful when trying to grasp the concrete effects of spectacle. First, some models of describing and understanding are to be found in several texts and are sometimes used by authors on opposite sides ( ‘ contagion ’ for example, or ‘ the fever seizing the audience ’ ). 9 These may be considered as symptoms: they show that the circulation of theatrical effects during and around performances is a fixation point of reflection during the period. Second, since these texts aim to persuade, we can legitimately think that they describe emotional dynamics that are not without links to contemporary sensibilities and people ’ s representations of them. This match, as tenuous as it may be, is necessary to the efficacy of these discourses. Furthermore, polemists claim that theirs is a pragmatic analysis, different from the speculations that are to be found in poetics; at least, they usually think of performance as a concrete event, as is also the case with police reports and official reports. For example, the scope and logic of the events provoked by the performance of the scandalous play A Game at Chess can be grasped through a series of official and private letters. 10 This allegorical and satirical play was produced at the Globe Theatre in London, in 1624. Using chess characters and 230 Clotilde Thouret figures, it alluded directly to the diplomatic relations between England and Spain (especially the aborted union between Charles, the heir to the English Crown, and the Spanish Infanta), and did so in an offensive manner: Philip IVof Spain is manipulated by deceptive, Machiavellian, and decadent Jesuits who are trying to conquer Europe. 11 It was an immediate and significant success: more than 20,000 spectators (i. e. ten percent of the London population at the time) went to see it in nine days, which was quite unprecedented. The Spanish Ambassador wrote to James I, asking for censorship of the play, punishment of the actors, and threatening to interrupt all diplomatic relations between the two countries. Several factors intervened in the scandalous appropriation of a text which is not so subversive in itself: the actual presence on stage of the costume of the former Spanish ambassador; the socially mixed audience, which took part in matters of state as a result of the performance, and thus engaged in an illegal activity; 12 the laughter, identified with abuse of both kings; and reactions that assigned a stable meaning to characters and actions. All these aspects created a number of transgressions and explain the scandal; they show how the performance overflowed the text, mixing together economic, political and theatrical contexts. As a whole, the narratives and descriptions of performances appearing in the large group of texts mentioned above delineate a framework for the theatrical experience, which provides for the collection of possible reactions or emotions in which we may find a contribution to aesthetic history and to historical anthropology. As Sylvaine Guyot and I have shown, transmission, contagion, scissions, and incitements are the main emotional regimes to be distinguished. 13 As far as the historiography of spectatorship is concerned, it is fruitful to delineate the historical framework or structure of these narratives, that is, the cultural, aesthetic, anthropological, and theological presuppositions and categories that govern texts about theatrical experience. They are, in a way, the coordinates of early modern spectatorship. The Dimensions of Early Modern Spectatorship Concepts of theatrical experience in early modern Europe, and more specifically in 17 th -century Europe, lie at the crossroads of three different historical paths: cultural and aesthetic; scientific and anthropological; and theologico-political. Approaches and ideas about dramatic effects are first rooted in an aesthetic and cultural context. From the Renaissance to the Enlightenment, the aesthetic sphere is not autonomous. One does not think about how to create a work of art without thinking about the effect it should have or the aim it should achieve. Every theory and every artistic practice engage in consideration of the reader ’ s or spectator ’ s emotions and their possible practical role. This general framework is reinforced by intellectual events of the time, especially the rediscovery of Aristotle ’ s Poetics and the thousands of pages of commentary on it. Since the dramatic poem is defined by the effects it provokes - tragedy excites fear and pity, comedy elicits laughter - these texts turned theatrical thinking towards the passions and spectators ’ reactions. 14 Moreover, the concept of catharsis is sufficiently vague to give rise to infinite interpretations and is reformulated for its moral, therapeutic or physiological utility. 15 Aristotle ’ s recommendations add to the Horatian precepts and the rhetorical model, with both retaining an indisputable influence, the second owing to its major role in education. Poetical composition is governed by the verses on the utile dulci and the verses on the mimetic 231 In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered response of the auditor or spectator ( “ si vis me flere, dolendum est / primum ipsi tibi . . . ” ; “ if you wish me to weep, you yourself / Must first feel grief . . . ” ), in other words by the emotional aim. 16 In fact, Horace ’ s Ars poetica already transposed rhetorical precepts for poetry. The docere, delectare, movere trio shows how the art of rhetoric is focused on the audience and its intellectual and emotional reception, since persuasion is obtained through pleasure and the passions. To understand fully what is at stake in this concern with the effect of the work of art and the terms in which it is understood, one has to take into account the scientific context. 16 th -century thought, and to a large extent 17 th -century thought as well, rely on the idea of an organic union of body and psyche. Passions are understood and defined as “ movements of the soul ” ; dispositions and characters are considered in terms of humoral fluids. After the scientific and philosophical shift imposed by the mechanical view of the body, the Aristotelian-Galenic models are discarded, but (as Erec Koch has shown) the body becomes the source and site of the production of passion and sensibility. This development constructs an aesthetic body that is, in its full etymological sense, a body whose principal functions are the production of sensation and affectivity, and which acts as the locus of interaction between the world and the soul. 17 This framework has two implications which are part of the perceptive structure of early modern theatrical experience. First, that the aesthetic experience is, first and foremost, a physical experience, and possibly a physical pleasure - even if sensation is not the last word on aesthetic experience. To a certain extent, this contradicts the modern concept, which associates emotions and the psyche. Second, that emotional reactions are not necessarily disconnected from the intellectual faculty of the soul; in other words, the emotions aroused by performance may possess a cognitive dimension. To a large extent, this contradicts the modern opposition between emotions and reason. As Thomas Dixon puts it, the creation of the psychological category of ‘ emotions ’ during the 19 th century led to a significant reduction in the conceptual richness used to describe and understand the reality of the passions, feelings, sentiments, appetites, etc. Furthermore, this category sets aside the cognitive dimension that was accorded to the ‘ passions ’ . Finally, by associating passions with the body alone, it cuts off their link with reason, whereas in the traditional Christian perspective of Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, passions, appetites, and feelings were considered as movements or acts of the soul and were linked with the will. 18 A third context, which may be called theologico-political, adds another dimension to views on early modern spectatorship. It is linked to the way in which Augustine ’ s views influenced aesthetics by shifting attention to the way in which a work is appropriated, in other words towards the uses of art. I rely here on the seminal article by Joachim Küpper. 19 For Augustine, one assimilates something in one of two ways: either one uses it (uti) or one gets pleasure from it (frui). The wrong or incorrect use of these forms of appropriation leads to depravity. Pleasure (delectatio) in itself is not to be condemned; it is condemned only if the will uses it badly, that is, if one simply enjoys an immediate and sensual pleasure without directing this enjoyment to the Creator. The application of these two forms of delectatio to aesthetic pleasure ultimately determined how aesthetics are understood in the Christian world. It implies a view of art that is very different from that of antiquity: it is no longer the essence of the work of art (and in particular its relation to truth) which gives aesthetic pleasure its value and dignity, but instead how it is appropriated. It is the appropriate reaction to the artwork (the 232 Clotilde Thouret right use of art), more than the appreciation of its beauty which gives legitimacy to artistic practice and thus becomes the determining principle for thinking about the arts and our relation to them. As a result, the epistemology of early modern spectatorship tends to resonate with the pragmatist aesthetics of Dickie or Goodman. 20 This approach sets the use of objects above the objects themselves. As the question of the essence of art inevitably leads to an impasse, it concerns itself less with what a work of art is, than with what it does. It places itself on the side of its effects and therefore on the side of its reception. This is not to say that aesthetic pragmatism is the whole story of reception before Kant. The political and cultural contexts are not at all the same and philosophical ideas cannot be equated with historical description. However, a pragmatic approach encourages a shift in attention that makes it possible to take account of certain aspects of reception which are otherwise given little attention or go unrecognized. Moreover, this viewpoint seems particularly fruitful when addressing controversies about the theatre, precisely because the debates centre on its usefulness or utility. Criticism, and especially French criticism, tends to speak of “ polemics on the morality of the theater ” , 21 but the range of these debates is, in reality, far wider. What is at stake is the utility of the theatre, as an art and as a cultural practice, its moral use, but also its religious, social, political, and even legal use. The justification of a relatively new and marginal practice, such as a public theatre, calls for a listing of its roles in the social and political community, that is, its usefulness or its uses. A Singular Spectator In this survey of important contexts, I have left out one dimension of the early modern theatrical experience: the social and economic. One change that occurred during the 16 th century profoundly modified the status of the spectator in public theatres and his or her relation to the performance: the admission fee. Ben Jonson was particularly concerned with this aspect of theatrical experience and its consequences; he incorporated it in all of his numerous characters of spectators 22 and some of his plays give very a precise and complex representation of what is going on during a performance. This is the case, for example, in the induction of Bartholomew Fair. 23 In the prologue, a stage-keeper enters to criticize the play about to be presented. Then, a book-keeper appears: he was sent to present an agreement between the author and the audience; he introduces the scrivener who reads out the articles of agreement. It is a contract between the author of Bartholomew Fair and the “ spectators or hearers at the Hope on the Bankside ” ; 24 a spectator ’ s payment for his seat acts as his seal. It is on the basis of this purchase that the author gives spectators the right to judge the play: each spectator may judge according to the price of his seat, “ and if he pay for half a dozen, he may censure for all them, too, so that he will undertake that they shall be silent ” . 25 But there are some further stipulations. The agreement requires the spectator to use his own judgment, not to allow himself to be influenced by others, and not to change his opinion. In addition, he promises not to be a decipherer, or “ politic pick-lock of the scene ” 26 (this last part alluding to satirical plays). The contract thus creates an ambivalent relationship between the spectators and the dramatist and defines two different concepts of the audience. Because of the commercial relationship that now defines the theatrical experience, spectators compose a group of individuals at once equal and unequal. All have the right to judge, and the weight of that 233 In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered judgement depends on the money they have spent, which equates them with a body of consumers. But at the same time, the contract restructures the commercial relationship and places theatrical activity, if only partially, outside the limits of a commercial exchange, because the purchase of the right to judge implies a moral responsibility on the spectator ’ s part: the commercial contract hides an obligation. At the heart of the undifferentiated body of ‘ consumers ’ , Jonson makes his spectator an individual. This suggests two remarks; paying to enter a theatre radically changes the nature of the audience, and the integration of theatrical practice into a market implies a new type of aggregate. Shifting from religious or political celebration to a market economy is to shift from a hierarchical group to individual recreation in which spectators are on the same level (or on a level measured by money). Acknowledging this situation, Jonson tries to establish a specific relationship with the good spectators, the “ attentive auditors, / Such as will join their profit with their pleasure, / And come to feed their understanding parts ” . 27 In a very different manner, and almost thirty years later, a similar motivation is also seen in Corneille: it is to be found in texts about the moral effect of the play, in which he tries to defend the exemplarity of his theatre. In the epistles placed before his Medea and before the continuation of The Liar, he explains his position on the moral utility of theatre. 28 It is deeply influenced by the Quarrel of the Cid. Corneille responds to Scudéry ’ s criticism of the play and especially of the character of Chimène, but it can be summarized as follows: the first purpose of the play is to please the spectator, but if it is a good play, it will have ethical value. Moral utility does not depend upon poetic justice. There is no moral lesson to be formulated; the spectator ’ s emotional and intellectual response to the truthful representation of virtues and vices will provide morality enough. In the epistle for the continuation of The Liar, Corneille specifies the relationship between author and spectator on which his theatre relies. 29 On one level, the poet owes perfection to his art and this corresponds to the pleasure of the spectator; on another level, his or her moral profit has to be understood as charity, which creates a relationship between the poet as a Christian and his public. The relationship between author and spectator is not a pedagogical one in which a lesson is given by the former to the latter, but an amicable one, based on equality. To address more directly the question of the effect of performance on the spectator, I would like to take a quick look at one theatrical experience, that of Hamlet. After the player ’ s recitation in Act II of Aeneas ’ s report of Troy ’ s defeat, Hamlet stays alone on stage and gives his second soliloquy. 30 After having seen the player perform the speech and cry, the prince of Denmark reflects on his own situation and his inertia. Why is the actor so affected by Hecuba ’ s destiny? “ What ’ s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba ” ? , 31 whereas he himself, who is abused by a rascal and suffers real grief, is lethargic, ‘ motionless ’ and does not seek revenge. The main part of the monologue describes Hamlet as a symmetric duplicate of the player: an idea, a simple fiction, provokes violent and visible disorder in the player, while his own violent and real passions remain unseen and are without consequences. In other words, Hamlet says that he is not pronouncing the appropriate soliloquy, that he does not play his role well (that of the vengeful son). This awareness allows him to realize his situation and to draw from his indignation the strength to act. Considering the relation between the player, the character, and himself, Hamlet gains a new perspective on himself and his situation. Something very similar happens to 234 Clotilde Thouret Claudius after The Mousetrap: after the aborted performance, he confesses his crime for the first time (in a soliloquy) and tries to pray and repent. These two spectators ’ responses can be interpreted as Shakespeare ’ s answer to the enemies of theatre and their Platonic idea of passion contamination. The scene with the players in fact refers precisely to the passage of Ion (535 a-536 b) in which Socrates speaks of the chain of the possessed which connects the poet to the rhapsodist and to the auditor. The situation is the one evoked by the Platonic text (a recitation); Shakespeare ’ s text is about Priam and Hecuba as are the pathetic passages Socrates questions Ion about, and the player has a powerful effect on the listeners, especially Polonius and Hamlet. However, the reaction of the latter has nothing in common with the contamination or the emotional contagion that critics of the theatre fear so much - and this is true as well for Claudius. First, the spectator engages in at least two emotional movements: one of identification with the character ’ s situation (the suffering of an offense for Hamlet; murder for Claudius) and one of differentiation (apparent calm for Hamlet; guilty feelings for Claudius). From this, proceeds a medley of emotions, in Hamlet ’ s case: indignation, self-pity, anger, irony, astonishment. Second, what is relevant is less what is shown than the relation the spectator establishes with what is shown; this reaction depends on the relations established with the character, the player, the other spectators, and himself. Third, the reaction is very much an individual one, with cognitive, emotional, and reflective dimensions. These texts suggest the emergence of the figure of spectator, with his or her own response to performance, his or her relationship with the playwright and the characters. This may be linked to an anthropological, social, and political phenomenon, the emergence of the subject and subjectivity in early modern Europe. Of course, this does not imply an individualizing conception of spectatorship: the spectator is always part of a group and the theatrical experience is eminently social. These texts are not historical documentation of performances, but when combined with the epistemological coordinates of spectatorship described above, they suggest some conceptual shifts in the production of historical knowledge about spectatorship. Instead of describing the theatrical phenomenon with categories such as ‘ audiences ’ and ‘ practitioners ’ , it would perhaps be better to use the category of ‘ community ’ , as in communities of production and communities of consumption, and to see how their practices evolve, and how they engage in dialogue and exchange. Instead of using categories of specific emotions and identification, it would be more fruitful to analyse the spectator ’ s reactions in terms of relations: what Hamlet ’ s monologue shows is that an emotion is less a subjective reaction than a relation established with other presences. Instead of speculating on the effects of a performance it is probably more interesting to ask what a performance provides a spectator by considering plays as means of mediation of relationships with the self, others, and the world. Notes 1 For France, see, for example, Yves Citton, Lire, Interpréter, Actualiser. Pourquoi les Études Littéraires? , Paris 2007; Marielle Macé, Façons de Lire, Manières d ’ Être, Paris 2011 and Hélène Merlin-Kajman, Lire Dans la Gueule du Loup. La Littérature, une Zone à Défendre, Paris 2016. 2 This study was done as part of the LABEX OBVIL project, and received financial aid managed by the Agence Nationale de la Recherche, as part of the programme “ In- 235 In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered vestissements d ’ Avenir ” under the reference ANR-11-IDEX-0004-02. My research on controversies about the theatre takes place in the project called “ La Haine du Théâtre ” ( “ Hatred of the stage ” , Labex OBVIL, Paris- Sorbonne) which I co-headed with François Lecercle from 2013 until 2019, http: / / obvil. paris-sorbonne.fr/ projets/ la-haine-du-theatre, [accessed 22 May 2021]. 3 See, for example, Henry Phillips, The Theatre and its Critics in Seventeenth Century France, Londres/ New York 1980; Jonas Barish, The Antitheatrical Prejudice, Berkeley 1981; Laurent Thirouin, L ’ Aveuglement Salutaire. Le Réquisitoire Contre le Théâtre Dans la France Classique, Paris 1997; Sylviane Léoni, Le Poison et le Remède. Théâtre, Morale et Rhétorique en France et en Italie (1694 - 1758), Oxford 1998; Laura Levine, Men in Women ’ s Clothing: Anti-Theatricality and Effeminization 1579 - 1642, Cambridge 1994; Michael O ’ Connell, The Idolatrous Eye, Iconoclasm and Theatre in Early- Modern England, New York 2000. 4 Ubaldo Floris, Teorici, Teologi e Istrioni. Per e Contro il Teatro Nella Francia del Cinque- Seicento, Rome 2008; Déborah Blocker, Instituer un ‘ Art ’ . Politiques du Théâtre Dans la France du Premier XVII e Siècle, Paris 2009. 5 Carine Herzig, “ Fray Manuel de Guerra y Ribera, ‘ Aprobación a la Verdadera Quinta Parte de Comedias de Don Pedro Calderón (1682) ’ . Estudio, Edición y Notas ” , in: Criticón 93 (2005), pp. 95 - 154; “ La Polémica en Torno a la Aprobación del Padre Fray Manuel de Guerra y Ribera (1682 - 1684) y la Moralización de la Comedia ” , in: Criticón 103 - 104 (2008), pp. 81 - 92. 6 François Lecercle, “ An Elusive Controversy: The Beginnings of Polemics Against the Stage in France ” , in: Logan Connors (ed.), Restoration and Eighteenth-Century Theatre Research 29/ 1 (2015), pp. 17 - 34; Clotilde Thouret, Le Théâtre Réinventé. Défenses de la Scène Dans l ’ Europe de la Première Modernité, Rennes 2019 (chap. 1 “ Dynamiques polémiques ” ). 7 It was already the topic of Jean-Christophe Agnew, Worlds Apart. The Market and the Theatre in Anglo-American Thought (1550 - 1750), London/ New York/ Melbourne 1986. 8 For France, see the website “ Naissance de la Critique Dramatique ” , eds. Lise Michel and Claude Bourqui, https: / / www2.unil.ch/ ncd17/ [accessed 22 May 2021]. 9 See Sylvaine Guyot and Clotilde Thouret, “ Des Émotions en Chaîne: Représentation Théâtrale et Circulation Publique des Affects au XVII e Siècle ” , in: Hélène Merlin- Kajman (ed.), Littératures Classiques 68 (2009), pp. 225 - 241. On contagion specifically, Clotilde Thouret, “ La Contagion des Affects Dans les Polémiques Sur le Théâtre au XVII e Siècle, en Espagne et en France ” , in: Ariane Bayle (ed.), La Métaphore de la Contagion, Dijon 2013, pp. 57 - 68. 10 Thomas Middleton, A Game at Chess, ed. Trevor H. Howard-Hill, Manchester 1993, pp. 192 - 213. 11 On the text, see Margot Heinemann, “ Political Satire: A Game at Chess ” , in: Puritanism and Theatre: Thomas Middleton and Opposition Drama Under the Early Stuarts chap. 10, Cambridge 1980, pp. 151 - 171; and Clotilde Thouret, “ Pouvoirs de l ’ Allégorie. Le Scandale de A Game at Chess de Thomas Middleton (1624) ” , Fabula / Les colloques, Théâtre et scandale, http: / / www.fabula.org/ colloques/ document5876.php [accessed 11 November 2019]. 12 During the 1620s, James I repeatedly issued edicts prohibiting dealing with matters of the Crown (either foreign or domestic) and the texts specify that such topics should not be discussed by ignorant subjects of no condition. 13 Guyot and Thouret, “ Des Émotions en Chaîne . . . ” , pp. 225 - 241. 14 Nicholas Cronk, “ Aristotle, Horace, and Longinus: The Conception of Reader Response ” , in: Glyn Norton (ed.), The Cambridge History of Literary Criticism. The Renaissance, Cambridge 1999, pp. 199 - 204. 15 Stephen Halliwell, Aristotle ’ s Poetics, London 1998, pp. 350 - 356; Jean-Charles Darmon (ed.), Littérature et Thérapeutique des Passions. La ‘ Catharsis ’ en Question, Paris 2011. 16 Horace, Ars Poetica, v. 99 - 105 and v. 343. 236 Clotilde Thouret 17 Erec Koch, The Aesthetic Body. Passion, Sensibility, and Corporeality in Seventeenth- Century France, Newark 2008. The postcartesian age does not imply the suppression of the body: see also Hélène Merlin-Kajman, “ Un Siècle Classico-Baroque? ” , in: XVII e siècle 223 (2004), pp. 163 - 172; John D. Lyons, Before Imagination. Embodied Thought From Montaigne to Rousseau, Stanford 2005. 18 Thomas Dixon, From Passions to Emotions. The Creation of a Secular Category, Cambridge 2003. 19 Joachim Küpper, “ Uti and Frui in Augustine and the Problem of Aesthetic Pleasure in the Western Tradition (Cervantes, Kant, Marx, Freud) ” , in: MLN 127 (2012), pp. 126 - 155. 20 Jean-Pierre Cometti, Qu ’ est-ce que le Pragmatisme? , Paris 2010. 21 Marc Fumaroli, “ La Querelle de la Moralité du Théâtre avant Nicole et Bossuet ” , RHLF, sept-déc. 1970/ 5 - 6, pp. 1007 - 1030; Laurent Thirouin uses the same phrase (L ’ Aveuglement salutaire. Le réquisitoire contre le théâtre dans la France classique, Paris, Champion, 1997). 22 For example, Fitzdotterel, The Devil is an Ass (1616), the four Gossips composing the Grex, The Staple of News (1624). 23 Ben Jonson, “‘ Bartholomew Fair ’ [1614, publ. 1640] ” , in: David Bevington, Martin Butler, Ian Donaldson (eds.), The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson (now indicated by CEWBJ), vol. 4, The Induction on the Stage, Cambridge 2012, pp. 279 - 282. 24 Ibid., p. 279. 25 Ibid., p. 280. 26 Ibid. 27 Every Man Out of His Humour, in: CEWBJ, vol. 1, “ Induction ” , pp. 269 - 270 and pp. 199 - 201. See also The Alchemist, in: CEWBJ, vol. 3, “ To the Reader ” , p. 558. 28 I deal with this question in more detail in “ Réflexions Théoriques Sur l ’ Utilité du Théâtre au XVII e Siècle: Ben Jonson et Pierre Corneille Face aux Querelles ” , in: Bénédicte Louvat et Florence March (eds.), Les Théâtres Anglais et Français (XVI e - XVIII e s.). Contacts, Circulation, Influences, Rennes 2016, pp. 83 - 97 and in my online edition of the epistle for the continuation of The Liar, URL: http: / / www.idt.paris-sorbonne.fr/ notice.php? id=158. 29 Pierre Corneille, La Suite du Menteur (1645), Œ uvres complètes, vol. 2, ed. Georges Couton, Paris 1984, “ Épître ” , p. 96: “ Pour moi, j ’ estime extrêmement ceux qui mêlent l ’ utile au délectable, et d ’ autant plus qu ’ ils n ’ y sont pas obligés par les règles de la poésie, je suis bien aise de dire d ’ eux avec notre docteur: Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci. Mais je dénie qu ’ ils faillent contre ces règles, lorsqu ’ ils ne l ’ y mêlent pas, et les blâme seulement de ne s ’ être pas proposé un objet assez digne d ’ eux, ou, si vous me permettez de parler un peu chrétiennement, de n ’ avoir pas eu assez de charité pour prendre l ’ occasion de donner en passant quelque instruction à ceux qui les écoutent ou qui les lisent. Pourvu qu ’ ils aient trouvé le moyen de plaire, ils sont quittes envers leur art, et s ’ ils pèchent, ce n ’ est pas contre lui, c ’ est contre les bonnes m œ urs et contre leur auditoire. ” 30 William Shakespeare, Hamlet, The Norton Shakespeare, ed. Stephen Greenblatt, New York-London 1997, Act II, Scene 2, pp. 1703 - 1704. 31 Ibid., p. 1703, v. 536. 237 In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity Kati Röttger (Amsterdam) This article delves into the interaction between newly emerging technologies, sciences and a new theory of knowledge that the spectacles of the phantasmagoria were calling up at the end of the 18 th century. It claims that - having been established as a permanent attraction - these practices unfolded a specific energy, caused by the anachronistic mix ‘ between a science centre and an amusement arcade ’ , between techno-logics (the scientific discourse on technics) and techno-magics (the experience of sensation, wonder and the supernatural caused by technical effects) in a context in which science - as a theory of nature and a theory of knowledge - drastically changed due to the emergence of new, modernizing kinds of machines, such as steam engines, batteries, electrical and atmospheric instruments. “ It is not a frivolous spectacle; it is made for the man who thinks, for the philosopher. ” 1 Prologue One evening in winter 1800, an unexpected visitor of the young German poet and composer, E. T. A. Hoffmann interrupted a strange performance that took place in the bel étage of the house of Hoffmann ’ s uncle in the Leipziger Straße in Berlin. Hoffmann was presenting a technical experimental setup - a “ physical experiment ” 2 to conjure ghosts. He was performing so-called medial phantasmagoria with the help of the technical apparatus called a magic lantern, an early form of slide projector. At that time, necromantic experiments had been staged by popular physicists or experts in the “ science of spectrology ” 3 on a much greater scale in Europe. Mervyn Heard claimed that phantasmagoria began to evolve into a powerful theatrical entertainment, with a repertoire of ghosts plucked from real life and the pages of Gothic romantic fiction: the heroes of the French Revolution, semblances of dead ancestors of members of the audience, and fictional phantoms such as the three witches from Macbeth [. . .] The preoccupation with the Gothic in in all things literary, artistic, and theatrical which had begun in 1764 with the publishing of Horace Walpole ’ s The Castle of Otranto and continued right through until the appearance of Mary Shelley ’ s Frankenstein in 1831, provided the ideal spur for the phantasmagoria. Here were all fearful terrors of the darkened corridor and the dismal dungeon; risen from the grave and recreated ‘ live ’ on stage. 4 Like many other artists of the time (including his unexpected visitor, the German poet Jean Paul), Hoffmann practiced these experiments out of a very specific Romantic interest in all kinds of spectacular technologies, such as self-moving androids, electrotechnical experiments, as well as optical instruments, artificial lightning, and moving images; this interest would mark his writing in the long term. These technologies were all defined by a hybrid twinship of organic and machine forces, that often evoked eeriness. Moreover, popular and spectacular performances of technical experiments - for example, Johann Wilhelm Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 238 - 253. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0022 Ritter ’ s galvanic-electric demonstrations and self-experiments applying the poles of a voltaic pile to his own hands, eyes, ears, nose, and tongue - had turned into a scientific vogue that attracted a large and very diverse audience. The late 18th century was fascinated by electricity; in 1799, Alessandro Volta had invented the first electrical battery, the voltaic pile, and had contributed to the creation of an electrical communication engineering system. These kinds of mass entertaining experimental theatrical practices formed an important part of a significant emerging spectacular culture in Europe that was informed by the industrial and political revolutions, and the development of new communication technologies on the cusp of modernity. The small event in the Leipziger Straße, as well as Ritter ’ s demonstrations and the phantasmagorias, are part of what I call a ‘ spectacular culture ’ that contributed significantly to the project of modernity that unfolded around 1800 in the course of the industrial and political revolutions in Europe. This culture went along with rearrangements of knowledge at the threshold of modernity that caused several moments of crisis of perception and representation. This shift has already received considerable attention in cultural-historical research, such as Gabriele Brandstetter ’ s and Gerd Neumann ’ s anthology on Romantische Wissenspoetik. Kunst und Wissenschaft um 1800 (2004). The authors convincingly argue that the transfer between sciences and arts generated an interplay of perception and imagination that interacted in the construction of a modern reality. More precisely, they claim, as Helmar Schramm does, 5 that the dynamics of art and knowledge had been intersected by a third component: the field of media, or the stage, where “ the drama of the poetics of knowledge ” 6 was performed. Consequently, attention to the apparatus of perception, for its medial and technical conditions, gained centre stage: for instance, the microscope, the telescope, the panoramic gaze from a tower or a balloon, mesmeric practices, living images, the camera obscura, electric apparatus, and automatons. Historicizing the Spectacle While I share these considerations, I suggest that we cannot understand these dynamics properly as long as the spectacle is disregarded. 7 To start with, I propose historicizing the spectacle. This proposal includes looking back at the theatre history of the late 18 th and early 19 th centuries from the perspective of the spectacle. Until now, this hybrid field of theatrical practices has been widely neglected, especially in theatre studies, a field dominated for a long time by national theatre histories focusing on text and textuality. These theatrical practices include spectacular staging of new media, such as phantasmagoria, as an intrinsic part of experimental visual and audio culture that was marked by its performative character. The notion of the spectacle is of specific use here, because it allows us to grasp the correlations between technology, popular culture, art, entertainment, performance, and the production of knowledge that were at stake at that time. ‘ Spectacle ’ requires an interdisciplinary approach that connects theatre and opera history, the history of fine arts and visual culture, media history and the history of aesthetics, the history of technology and the history of sciences. For that purpose, I propose to apply a genealogical perspective to the relationship between the spectacle and modernity. Following Nietzsche, this relationship means looking at those events around 1800 that led to particular circumstances which were described as spectacles and, as 239 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity spectacles, claimed modernity. Modernity was epitomized by new technologies that resulted in rationalization and new knowledge. At the same time, the spectacularism of displays of new inventions within the field of mechanics, electricity, or optics should not be underestimated. Furthermore, theatres and operas in the metropolises of Europe became a spectacular experimental ground for physicists, engineers, painters and set designers (often combined in a single person) with the aim of developing new techniques to imitate nature (for instance, in the field of lightning). These types of stage events interacted with the new media of (mass) entertainment, which emerged, for instance, in the form of panoramas, dioramas, or stereoscopy. If, within this context, a genealogical perspective is applied to the spectacle and to modernity, this means that the use and effects of new technologies within the wider field of theatre (including opera and other media of entertainment related to theatre) need to be closely examined in order to ask: to what extent is the spectacle an integral and constitutive element of modern society from its beginning? Against this broad background, I will take up the case of the phantasmagoria to highlight the specific relationship between spectacle, technology, and the production of knowledge, as well as the methodological problems of tackling them. Phantasmagoria Under Suspicion: In Between Techno-Logics and Techno- Magics E. T. A. Hoffmann had been especially inspired to try out his experiments after he had visited a show of “ magic experiments ” 8 in Berlin that was presented by a “ physicist ” , Paul Philidor. Philidor ’ s roots are difficult to trace; he adapted his identity from the Italian white magic expert and “ Roman professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy ” Pinetti, and the French chess player Philidor, changing his name several times until appearing later on as Paul de Philipsthal. “ As befits a great magician ” , Heard writes, “ Philipsthal ’ s early life seems to consist of a succession of slow materialisations and sudden, spectacular disappearances ” . 9 His first known performances were advertised by “ Charles Phyllidoor, professor in de physique en Mathematique ” to take place at 6 pm on December 27, 29, and 31, 1785 and January 2, 1786 at De Schuttershof in Middelburg. 10 He promised different spectacles for each evening and presented his show as “ Zwarte Konst ” (Black Art), including conjuring tricks and automata. A few months later, he arrived in Groningen and advertised two “ Representaties der Zwarte Konst ” to take place in the local Concert Zaal at 6 pm on March 22 and 23. “ Moved by the lively appreciation and polite manner of several distinguished gentlemen who engaged him ” he would be back on March 28 and 30 for other “ amusing experiments ” , 11 including a trick which involved shooting away a ring that would be returned by Phyllidoor ’ s dove and found inside an orange. Spectators were requested to bring oranges for this purpose. After having travelled with several shows to Berlin, Leipzig, Vienna, and Paris between 1798 and 1800, he returned to the Batavian Republic to exhibit his “ Large Cabinet of Mechanical and Optical Arts ” , 12 including ghostly apparitions and life-size mechanical figures, in several cities. He presented, for the first time, the prototype phantasmagoria show in 1789 in Berlin, including pyrotechnics, physics experiments, hydraulics, hydrostatics, magnetic-mechanical experiments, and electric shocks. This veritable theatrical staging of technical knowledge oscillating between occult forms of necromantic and scientific research with physical experiments attracted 240 Kati Röttger a very diverse audience because of its highly spectacular nature. His shows were especially appreciated because they fell in the domain of scientific recreation, called magic and prestidigitation. For precisely this reason, several popular writings, such as Johann Christian Wiegleb ’ s and Gottfried Erich Rosenthal ’ s Unterricht in der Natürlichen Magie, aus Allerhand Beruhigenden und Natürlichen Kunststücken Bestehend (1779 - 1802), aimed to unmask the secret technologies used to conjure up the dead, according to the discourse of public enlightenment and control of imagination. Philidor ’ s séances finally resulted in an accusation of fraud due to the report of Freiherr von Reck; he was ordered to stop and expelled from Berlin. A few months later, Philidor published a statement that he had never conjured up any spirits, but that he showed how charlatans could deceive people. He regarded his shows by no means as supernatural, but as an art, which had already found praise at the Dresden court, in which he acted as an educating illusionist. In 1793, he took the show to Paris to stage it in a temple. The Belgian Étienne Gaspar Robertson, who became renowned as the ‘ inventor ’ of the phantasmagoria, would remember and later recreate Philidor ’ s delirious procession wreathed in sulphurous smoke. When the terror in France erupted later in the same year, Philidor requested and received a passport to go to England, where he very probably transmogrified himself into Paul de Philipsthal. At that time, phantasmagoria had become a permanent attraction. While the term itself, according to Laurent Mannoni, was originally coined in 1792 by the same Philidor when he advertised his ghostly shows in the Paris daily newspaper Les Affiche for the first time as “ phantasmagoria ” , 13 the spectral performance can be traced back to earlier practices linking ghost raising and showmanship by media technicians, such as Johann Georg Schröpfer (1738 - 1774), Jacob Meyer alias Jacob Philadelphia (1735 - 1795? ), or Emanuel Swedenborg (1688 - 1772). But at the end of the 18 th century these practices unfolded a specific energy, caused by the anachronistic mix of a science centre and an amusement arcade, of techno-logics (the scientific discourse on technics) and techno-magics (the experience of sensation, wonder and the supernatural caused by technical effects). It was the time when science - as a theory of nature and a theory of knowledge - drastically changed due to the emergence of new, modernizing machines, such as steam engines, batteries, and electrical and atmospheric instruments. These machines created uncanny transformations of labour processes - replacing manufactured work at great velocity with mechanical processes such as steam-powered mills or weaving looms. This development was accompanied by amplified effects on the imagination by new technologies of communication and spectacle. The specific synergy that emerged between science and technics at that time is most clearly indicated by the very shift of the notion itself: “ While the word techné had long referred to art or craft in general, it was only in this period that ‘ technology ’ was rising as a distinct set of objects and production processes, often connected with economic developments ” . 14 In this specific constellation, spectacular practices such as phantasmagoria (like the simultaneously emerging panorama, diaphanorama, eidophusikon, etc.) gained considerable cultural significance and attracted urban mass audiences. The then newly coined term of phantasmagoria to denote the eyeand ear-catching mysterious optical show, has been transformed “ into an epistemic figure for the limits of philosophical knowledge ” , 15 achieving a firm place in German speculative philosophy from Kant - followed by Hegel and Marx - onwards. For Hegel, the phantasmagoria 241 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity meant that stage of interiority that had to be overcome in the subject ’ s teleological progress toward knowing. In his lectures on the philosophy of nature and spirit (1805 - 1806), he refers directly to spectral performances: This is the night, the inner of nature that exists here - pure self. In phantasmagorical presentations it is night on all sides; here a bloody head suddenly surges forward, there another white form abruptly appears, before vanishing again. One catches sight of this night when looking into the eye of man - into a night that turns dreadful; it is the night of the world that presents itself there. 16 It is not clear if Étienne-Gaspar de Robertson knew this passage when he wrote in his Mémoires Récréatifs, Scientifiques et Anécdotiques more than 20 years later, “ It is not a frivolous spectacle; it is made for the man who thinks, for the philosopher ” . 17 But it is clear that he did not mean to overcome the spectacle (and the phantasmagoria) by speculative philosophy, but to insist on the interaction between newly emerging technologies, sciences, and a new theory of knowledge that the spectacle of the phantasmagoria was calling up. 18 Romantic Versus Classic Machines? As we have seen, phantasmagoria (like other entertainment media of that time) refuses any easy categorization. 19 This problem is closely related to the problem of periodization in the history of science and technology and the history of culture. Technoperformative phenomena happening at the emergence of modernity, around 1800, are difficult to define because of their heterogeneity. It seems as if, for this reason, they resist even profound research or - in the few exceptions - contradictory propositions. For instance, the general periodic labels of Romanticism and Enlightenment do not allow us to understand these phenomena properly. At least, this is the conclusion of two outstanding studies, Giuliano Pancaldi ’ s book on Volta. Science and Culture in the Age of Enlightenment (2003) and John Tresch ’ s The Romantic Machine. Utopian Science and Technology after Napoleon (2014). While Pancaldi approaches the early age of electricity - and specifically the case of Alessandro Volta - as a period of inventions “ enforced by Enlightenment ideas and practices ” , 20 John Tresch classifies the same age as mechanical romanticism. 21 It is noteworthy here, that - while defending opposing classifications for the same phenomenon - both agree that exactly these classifications do not fully define the new machines, scientific traditions and new forms of knowledge that emerged as the most important impetus for modernization and industrialization at that time. Due to their heterogeneity - and spectacularism, “ neither party has done proper justice to the wealth, diversity, and unpredictability of the intellectual, technological and social ferment that, under the banner of the vague but compelling Enlightenment notions of useful knowledge and quantifying spirit, led to the age of electricity, and to our industrial societies. ” 22 Tresch, for his part, aims to reconstruct the “ neglected theory of nature and knowledge, one that may be a resource for those who seek to redraft the relationship between machines, knowledge and the earth. ” 23 With this end in view, he coins the notion of the romantic machine, embracing steam engines, batteries, and sensitive electrical and atmospheric instruments. This notion, Tresch claims, not only resists the persistent binary divide between the romantic and the mechanic, 24 but also the dominant notion of the machine as standing for reason, matter, calculation, effectiveness, reproduction, and the domination of nature going back to the classic age of the 17 th century. This notion is exemplified by the 242 Kati Röttger mechanical, meaning most prominently the clock, the lever, and the balance. These machines were seen as stable, self-regulating entities, in strict contrast to the irregularities of nature. According to Jan Lazardzig, the machine was, in fact, central to the 17 th century ’ s efforts to control all dynamics tied to nature with the help of regulatory and calculating systems. Harmony, reason, and functionality materialize in the machine, and the machine conversely becomes a unifying, kinetic model of living nature. The nature of living and living nature find their common vanishing point in the machine. 25 This idea results in an epistemology of detachment of rationality and lifelessness and the implications of external forces and determinism. Even though Tresch ’ s notion of the romantic machine is introduced in opposition to this solidified classic notion of the machine and therefore, bears the danger of again consolidating a binary of enlightenment and romanticism, it is worthwhile closely examining his notion at this point. He intriguingly proves the close relationship between the invention of new machines, a changing concept of nature, and the production of new knowledge, introducing his study in the following way: “ The kinds of machines we use are bound up with the ways we think about nature and the ways we know it. When our machines and our understanding of them change, so does our view of knowledge ” . 26 Hence, his examination of the period of early industrialization helps us to grasp the radical extent to which the new machines modified humans ’ relations to their environment and contributed to the transition from natural philosophy to natural sciences. Consequently, as I will demonstrate further on by returning to the phantasmagoria, they were an intrinsic part of a spectacular culture that performed the interconnection of techno-logics and techno-magics, bringing forth a new understanding of nature as modifiable and complexly interdependent, and of knowledge as an active and sensitive interplay between human and machine. In Tresch words: “ artworks and popular spectacles used new and elaborate techniques to produce powerful emotions and lifelike effects and often took the demiurgic powers of science and technology as their central themes ” . 27 One of the most prominent themes in this context certainly was, as mentioned earlier, electricity, represented not only by E. T. A. Hoffmann ’ s obsession with it: 28 “ The electric effect became a metaphor for the contemporary as such. [. . .] Galvanic arousal, enlivenment and electricity became synonyms. ” 29 Associated concepts, such as circulation, current, and exchanges, were not only relevant for the economy, but also for media-technological fields such as telegraphy. 30 From this perspective, the notion of the romantic machine understood as “ flexible, active, and inextricably woven into circuits of both living and inanimate elements “ 31 makes sense since it was marked by categories such as transformation, animation, the fusion of mechanical and human interaction, and by merging concepts of mechanism and organism. In the first half of the 19 th century, public experiments with electricity became part of an ongoing process of natural production and adaption that included human technology: equivalent machines and tools (like batteries, tellingly also called “ the artificial electric organ ” ) were seen as new organs modifying humans ’ relations to their environment. Volta, for instance, conducted countless performances of his experiments throughout Europe, including a spectacular explosion of a gas pistol in Zürich, on 16 September 1777. 32 To prove new conceptual notions such as ‘ tension ’ and ‘ capacity ’ he demonstrated the effects of newly invented machines, such as the electrophorus (a perpetual carrier of electricity), by triggering 243 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity bodily experiences in his audience. For instance, he measured the tension of a body by counting the number of turns the friction machine needed to make an electrometer connected to the body rise to a certain degree. At the same time, he struggled constantly with acceptance as a serious natural philosopher and physicist. While the Encyclopaedia Britannica praised the electrophorus as “ the most surprising machine hitherto invented ” , 33 in fact Volta ’ s achievements “ depended more on his machine and on his performances as an electrician than on the notions developed in the long theoretical memoir ” . 34 In fact, “ the safest ground for appreciating Volta ’ s contribution remained the performances of his machine(s) ” . 35 Paradoxically, this need to perform helped to harm his scientific reputation. Benjamin Franklin, for instance, the most renowned American pioneer in electricity of his time, famous for inventing the system of positive and negative electricity and the lightning rod, accused Volta of being “ merely an inventor of ‘ amusements électriques ’” . 36 According to Pancaldi, Volta ’ s career is typical for the period of transition between classical and modern perception: One might say that it was precisely the work of scientists like Volta, and the impact of instruments like the electric battery - which again [. . .] stemmed from laboratory practice and for which no convincing theory was available - that slowly changed the eighteenth-century hierarchy of ascribed ranks of competence within the physicist community. By granting more room and more prestige to men like Volta, that change prepared the way for the emergence of a new, nineteenth-century figure of the scientist, and the partial eclipse of the old, eighteenth-century figure of the natural philosopher that Volta in many respects still was. Volta found himself in the middle of this process, and - unaware - he contributed to it above all with his machines. 37 Only after the invention of the battery in 1799, which marked a turning point in the history of physics, did Volta become widely renowned and allowed to enjoy the rewards that some of his peers had refused to grant him before. An important contributor to Volta ’ s search for recognition was Napoleon Bonaparte, who was impressed by the importance of the battery for his modernization projects. Fig. 1: Guiseppe Bertini (1825 - 1898), Alessandro Volta, demonstrating his battery to the first consul Napoleon, 1801. Painting 1870. 34,4x24, 8 cm. © lookandlearn.com. Pancaldi claims that the endeavours of Volta (and many others like him) were shaped by combinations of several different cultural and research traditions that included a mixed population of natural philosophers, physicists, instrument makers, amateurs, and a huge lay audience, “ within a broad framework provided by Enlightenment notions like ‘ useful knowledge ’ and the ‘ the quantifying spirit ’” . 38 In the conclusion to this article, I will come back to the notion of spectacular cultures as a heterogeneous field where technical knowledge is performed in between romantic techno-magic and enlightened technologics in a close interconnection of scientific experiment and sensational entertainment. 244 Kati Röttger The Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity In France, Gaspar de Robertson was the first to report on the invention of the battery, in the summer of 1800. Taking into account that Robertson was an amateur physicist and showman, it is striking that he immediately grasped the ground-breaking effect of this device, without having understood its working in detail. The new experiments made possible by Volta ’ s device appeared “ vraiment étonnants ” 39 to him, but - distinct to Volta ’ s findings - he classified the new phenomenon as part of galvanism, which was quite popular in Paris in that time. Galvanism was - in contrast to battery electricity - very closely linked to living biological matter, as Luigi Galvani had demonstrated in 1780 with frogs. Therefore, galvanic electricity had been mainly perceived as a central characteristic of life. Consequently, Robertson titled his report about the voltaic pile to the Institut National “ Sur le Fluide Galvanique. ” 40 He focused more on the effects of the battery than on the instrument itself. In line with his spectacles, for Robertson, the most intriguing effects were those on the human body. He tested them by touching the top of the pile with nearly every part of his body, including those “ where the skin is especially delicate and sensible ” , 41 while he held the bottom of the colonne métallique with his hand. His speculations on the battery were in line with his (and his contemporaries ’ ) early fierce interest in alchemy and black magic, the proof of Satan ’ s very existence and raising the dead, which he extended in his later career with a study on philosophy, 42 all branches of physics, natural sciences, and the arts, and practicing painting quite well. 43 “ Couldn ’ t this extraordinary fluid be the first of the acids available in nature? ” he hypothesized in his report. “ Couldn ’ t it be the first agent of the living moment, that the ancients called nervous fluid? Couldn ’ t it be a veritable poison? ” 44 His own experiments on galvanism had already become an intrinsic part of his phantasmagoria events two years before he learned about the voltaic pile. If we see the way he depicted himself on the cover of his autobiography, the importance of electricity becomes even more obvious: the physicist Robertson carries a frog in his right hand and touches a voltaic pile with his left hand to cause convulsions in the dead body of the animal. An electrification machine is shown behind him, and a Leiden jar is presented on his experiment table. Both devices served to produce and save mechanical electricity around 1800. His experiments with electricity were part of his main attraction, the performance of apparitions of spectres, phantoms, and ghosts, which premiered at the Pavilion de l ’ Èchiquier on 23 January 1798. An advertisement in the Journal de Paris on 20 January announced “ [e]xperiments with the new fluid known by the name Galvanism, whose application gives temporary movement to bodies whose life has departed ” . 45 Two years later, having moved his show to the Convent des Capucines (an abandoned chapel with a convent “ in the middle of a cloister, littered with broken gravestones ” 46 ), Robertson announced he was to carry out additional experiments on the subject of the voltaic pile in public “ on the first and the fifth day of each decade during the evening sessions ” . Volta himself attended these shows twice after having convinced Robertson of his own explanation of the battery, 47 while Robertson - defending Volta ’ s position - had made physique expérimentale a permanent attraction in his evening shows. 48 But how do we imagine this show? It was a spectacular demonstration of new technology, combining new machines and electric and lightning experiments, as well as “ experiments with arrangement of lenses [. . .] and the 245 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity superimposition of one picture upon another to create special effects; ghosts rolling their eyes, the flickering flames of hell, a ghostly dance of witches ” . 49 Robertson acted as inventor, painter, physician, and performer at the same time; as hybrid and as innovative his profession was, so was his show. For instance, he was the first to use the new Argand lamp (an oil lamp with a tubular wick, invented by Aimeé Argand in the early 1780s) to project his self-painted phantasmagoria slides made with transparent oil-based colour pigment. Much brighter than the usual candles, the lamp allowed him to play at bigger locations and attract a mass audience to demonstrate, as Marina Warner concludes: “ the huge power of such spectacles and illusions over crowds. ” 50 His main technological device was a new selfinvented apparatus, the Fantascope, an amplified magic lantern. It was housed in a stage area some twenty-five feet deep that lay beyond a huge screen, a theatrical scrim. That way, hidden from the audience ’ s view, it was able to project the transparent glass slides on the screen or on smoke. It showed figures such as Banquo ’ s ghost and the witches from Macbeth, inspired by paintings by Henri Fuessli who had illustrated Shakespeare, and gothic horror show depictions like succubae, skeletons, mad women in white, “ The Bleeding Nun ” , and shades of dead in the underworld, such as Orpheus losing Eurydice. As well as these motifs reaching back to Greek, pagan, and heterodox mythologies and referring to contemporary Gothic emblems, he also brought the political heroes of the French revolution to life; an eyewitness recounted: A decimvir [member of the ruling body] of the republic has said that the dead return no more but go to Robertson ’ s exhibition and you will soon be convinced of the contrary, for you will see dead returning to life in crowds. Robertson calls forth phantoms and legends of spectres. In a well-lighted apartment in the Pavilion de l ’ Èchidquier I found myself seated a few evenings since with some sixty or seventy people. At seven o ’ clock a pale thin man entered the room where we were sitting, and after extinguishing the candles he said ‘ Citizens and gentlemen, I am not one of those adventurers and impudent swindlers who promise more than they can perform. I have assured the public in the Journal de Paris, that I can bring the dead to life, and I shall do so [. . .]. ’ A moment of silence followed, and a haggard looking man with dishevelled hair and sorrowful eyes rose in the midst of the assemblage and exclaimed ‘ As I have been unable in an official journal to re-establish the worship of Marat, I should at least be glad to see his shadow. ’ Robertson immediately threw upon the brazier containing lighted coals, two glasses of blood, a bottle Fig. 2: Étienne-Gaspard Robertson (1763 - 1837), Fantascope with Argand Lamp, illustration in Étienne-Gaspard Robertson, Mémoires Récréatifs, Scientifiques et Anecdotiques [. . .], Paris 1831, vol. 1, p. 326. 246 Kati Röttger of vitriol, a few drops of aquafortis and two numbers of the Journal des Hommes Libres and there instantly appeared in the midst of the smoke caused by the burning of these substances, a hideous living phantom armed with a dagger, and wearing a red cap of Liberty. The man at whose wish the phantom had been evoked seemed to recognize Marat, and rushed forward to embrace the vision, but the ghost made a frightful grimace and disappeared. 51 The terrors of the French revolution were revived on a regular basis by the ghost of Robespierre, haunting the audience ’ s memory of their most recent history: When a journalist from the Courir des Spectacles attended, in February 1799, just after the opening, he seemed taken most of all with the wraith of le monster, Robespierre, ascending from his tomb. Desirous of attending the kingdom of the blessed, the despised revolutionary is instead struck by lightning and reduced, tomb and all, to powder. 52 While this effect was probably created with a lanternslide, Robertson later developed more refined projection techniques and also used actors, masks, and human shadows. The Fantascope ’ s lamp house was so big that it also allowed the projection of reflected images of opaque items, actors, portraits or figures that had been introduced through a door in the back. In that case, a four-burner lamp was used, with a different series of lenses. Installed on wheels, it was possible to move the Fantascope more or less noiselessly back and forth to create images of increasing or slowly disappearing ghosts. Due to this specific technical-human ensemble, “ Robertson ’ s presentation was far more akin to a theatrical entertainment than a series of dry experiments. ” 53 Dispensing with the conventional theatre ’ s raised stage, a puppet show box, and a proscenium arch, it was a mixture of theatrical settings and proto-cinematographic effects. 54 Thanks to the extensive study on the phantasmagoria by Mervyn Heard, it is possible to provide translated sources to get an idea not only of the dramaturgy of these shows, but also of the strange mixture of techno-magics and techno-logics that the shows provided. Robertson ’ s premiere exhibition at the Convent des Capucines took place on 3 January 1799 at 7: 30 pm. The main event was preluded by “ a mixture of ‘ walk around ’ side-show items and platform demonstrations ” such as an optical box, offering twelve views of an initiation ceremony; a labyrinthine walk through a long dark corridor decorated with fantastic paintings into a room containing a cabinet of optical and scientific curiosities; a pictorial tableau of famous statesmen, a panorama-optique of the Port of Naples, and so on. For the main event, newspaper advertisements promised a feast of spectres, which would manifest by various methods attributable to such diverse authorities as the magicians of Memphis and the fictional witches of Macbeth. These were seen in the specially designed Convent auditorium where the audience finally ended up. The dominating force here was darkness. For Robertson, this was an important effect to create a transcendent experience; he observed that almost immediately while entering “ all faces were grave, even gloomy, and people spoke only with lowered voices. ” 55 Once the audience had become accustomed to this special sphere, Robertson stepped out of the darkness to introduce the show. The examples he gives in his Memoire reflect perfectly his ambitions to contribute with his shows to technical knowledge and philosophical education beyond sheer attraction. The first example starts as follows: What you are about to see, gentlemen, is not a frivolous spectacle; it is intended for the man who thinks, for the philosopher who loves to wander for an instant with Sterne, amid the tombs. It is moreover a useful spectacle for a 247 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity man to discover the bizarre effect of imagination when it combines force and disorder; I wish to speak of the terror which shadows, symbols, spells and the occult work of magic inspire; terror which almost all men have experienced [. . .] in the age of reason. 56 In the second example, he repeats in even clearer terms the philosophical and historical ambition of his show, which was taking place shortly after the experiences of terror in the aftermath of the French Revolution; he referred to the spectres of man-made history that would appear after his prologue, like the spectre of Marat or Robespierre, ascending from his tomb, as if he would foresee the dramaturgy of a modern Europe conjured up as an experience of haunting in Marx ’ manifesto. 57 The experiments which you are about to witness must interest philosophy; here philosophy may witness the history of aberrations of the human spirit, and this is worth more than the political history of nations. The two great epochs of man are his entry into life and his departure from it. All that happens can be considered as being placed between two black and impenetrable veils which conceal these two epochs, and which no one has yet raised. [. . .] Many philosophers have profited by this general curiosity to astonish the imagination subdued to the uncertainty of the future. But the most mournful silence reigns on the other side of this funerary crepe; and it is to fill this silence, which say so many things to the imagination, that magicians, sibyls and priests of Memphis employ the illusions and an unknown art, which I am going to try to demonstrate under your eyes. 58 Resonating as a kind of promethean megalomania of modern progress, Robertson is combining the belief in new technology to intervene in the course of life and death, relying on the new understanding of nature as modifiable and complexly interdependent, and the belief in knowledge as active and sensitive interplay between human and machine; he then would demonstrate this in his show, presenting himself as a magician capable of restoring life to departed souls. While the instruments of lightning, projecting, and the new electric fluids whose applications give temporary movements to bodies whose life has departed helped him ‘ to prove ’ his ability, the effect of the show was intensified by a soundscape mainly created by the glass harmonica, a new instrument ideal for accompanying ghostly apparitions. Invented and refined by Benjamin Franklin and based on the piercing sound of glasses filled with water, it was meant to be able to agitate the nervous system of the listeners and to drive them insane. Additionally, the sounds of rain, thunder, and the tolling of a funeral bell underlay the materialization of the ghosts. Robertson himself described the opening scene as such: At a great distance a point of light appeared; a figure could be made out, at first very small, but then approaching with slow steps, and at each step seeming to grow; soon, now, of immense size, the phantom advanced under the eye of the spectator and, at the moment when the latter let out a cry, disappeared with unimaginable suddenness. At other times, the spectres emerged fully formed from a vault, and presented themselves in an unexpected manner. The ghosts of famous men crowded around a boat and passed over the Styx, then fleeing celestial light, withdrew insensibly to lose themselves in the immensity of space. 59 Robertson ’ s career as physicist, inventor, entertainer, and magician is typical for an époque in which these kinds of spectacles proved to offer interesting clues as to how science and technology were granted a prominent place in public culture and how they raised conflicting themes by mir- 248 Kati Röttger roring the ambiguities between the public merit of the achievements and the doubtful worth ascribed to scientific and technological endeavour. “ These conflicting themes ” , Pancaldi stresses, “ contributed to the (temporary) magic of the rituals performed to celebrate the scientist as hero in the industrial era, but they also caused the rapid disappearance of the magic once the celebrations were over ” . 60 Nevertheless, it should be noted that spectacles like the phantasmagoria contributed to a broad public experience of new technologies and to a curiosity for scientific effects by creating magical narratives told by these technologies themselves: narratives of artificial life and the technically underpinned capacity to make the dead appear. They provide scenes of uncanny transformations and magic powers as reflections of metamorphosis and amplifying effects made possible by new technologies of communication and spectacle. They are part of a culture of spectacular technologies and technologies of spectacles that invested in the regular production of novel phenomena and affective experiences. Just as the physical sciences created new devices to control light, heat, and electromagnetism, [the spectacles were] heavily invested in new technical apparatus to produce illusions [. . .] To do so, in many cases (like in the case of Robertson, K. E.) they used the same technology as scientists did. Both scientists and artists studied the control of light and colour in the camera obscura and the panorama, as well as the sonic properties of musical instruments; scientists were recruited to assist stage designers, and artists, as [. . .] in the case of daguerrotypie, were recognised for their contribution to the investigation of nature. 61 In his Essay on the Philosophy of Sciences, the mathematician, chemist, philosopher, and founder of the basic principles of electro-dynamics, André-Marie Ampère, introduced the term ‘ la technesthétique ’ to express this traffic between the sciences, the arts, and the spectacle. The notion covered the “ means with which man acts upon the intelligence or the will of his fellows [. . .] recalling ideas, sentiments, passions, etc. and giving birth to new ones in the spectator of an art object, the hearer of a piece of music or a speech, or, finally, in the reader ” , 62 reproducing at the same time the shock of novelty, generating new effects and new combinations of senses and new imaginations. Bearing in mind that, in the ‘ age of electricity ’ , we are confronted with that period when ‘ technology ’ was emerging as a new set of objects and production processes, often connected with economic developments (as Marx later in the 19 th century would theorize in Capital, relying on the notion of the phantasmagoria as the fetish object of exchange value), it is not fair to speculate about a new labour theory of aesthetic effects. In this context, I want to argue that the close link between technology and spectacularism is also related to the problem of what is worth knowing. Or better said: the attraction of spectacular scientific demonstrations and new media lies in the proof of their functionality in a life event. “ Playing the performance on two levels, [Robertson] could scare the uninitiated and cast winks to the knowing ” . 63 He challenged the spectator to differentiate between techno-magics and techno-logics. The spectacularism of that experience is part of the project to inscribe techno-logics into reality by transforming it. Conclusion E. T. A. Hoffman became acquainted with Robertson ’ s techno-magic experimental shows from J. F. L. Meyer ’ s Briefe aus der Hauptstadt und dem Inneren Frankreichs (1802), which he took out of the library 249 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity in the Jägerstrasse in Berlin in 1818. 64 Instead of emphasizing the charlatan, deceiving effects of the shows, he appreciated mostly the technological skills - the combination of popular optical apparatus, such as like lanterns, concave mirrors, and prisms, as well as the innovative form of entertainment. Meyer had described Robertson as popularising electrochemical galvanism in France, 65 and Hoffmann again felt vindicated for his interest in combining electrotechnical theories and practices with aesthetic literary concepts that determined his tales. In the middle of the 1820s, the tales of E. T. A. Hoffmann had been translated into French. From then on, they gained considerable attention, with the most well-known Der Sandmann and Die Automate. His “ Poetics of Technics ” was quite soon imitated, also by authors that inclusively achieved fame as authors of melodrama, such like Théophile Gautier, Alexandre Dumas, Gérard de Nerval, but also - to some extent - Honoré de Balzac. Jean-Jacques Ampère, son of André- Marie Ampère and founder of the field of comparative literature, praised Hoffmann ’ s new style, pointing especially to his technique of raising existential doubts about the power of the unliving. He admired the effect of suspense created by doubts that the ghost sightings, life-like automata, and animated matters that haunted his stories were merely the imaginings of his protagonists, the result of a magic trick, or genuine proof of the reality of the supernatural. 66 This paradigmatic phenomenon of geographic, 67 technoaesthetical and intermedia interplay is part of a specific culture of interconnection around 1800 that only comes within sight when disciplinary bound strict historical periodization, such as Enlightenment or Romantic, do not limit the scope. The cross-linking of technics, aesthetics, poetics, natural philosophy, physics, alchemy, performance, magics, and entertainment as well as the crosslinking of amateurs and professionals, the un-instructed and the connoisseur, and the varied audiences (as in the phenomenon of the phantasmagoria) can only be grasped properly in a combined perspective. It also extends into the landscape of theatre and opera of that time, which, due to limited space, is outside the scope of this article focused on right now. 68 Of these reasons, I think the notion of the spectacle, and more specifically, technologies of spectacle, is of particular use here, because it allows us to grasp the correlation between new technology and its intrinsic spectacular effects performed as part of a popular culture learning to become modern. Technologies of spectacle at that time went beyond a binary understanding of the relationship between man and machine that regained dominance in the course of the 19 th and 20 th centuries. According to George Simondon, this persistent opposition, “ is wrong and has no ground, behind it lurks ignorance and resentment ” , 69 because it does not recognize the presence of men in the machines through their existence in the invention: “ What inhabits machines is human reality, human gesture that is fixed and crystallized in functioning structures ” . 70 This is certainly at stake in the technical ensemble represented by the phantasmagoria, because it was determined by the “ celebration of the fantastic aspects of machines [that] went along with the recognition of the concrete social relation they expressed and maintained ” . 71 The pretention of intervening in the course of life and death also relied on the new understanding of nature as modifiable and complexly interdependent and of knowledge as active, and the sensitive interplay between human and machine that was at stake in the age of electricity. 72 The principle of animation that is invoked here is directly related to the electrotechnical experimental culture around 1800. It stages 250 Kati Röttger the “ immaterial aspects of human experiences [that] have multiplied alongside the extraordinary discoveries of sciences long after Isaac Newton speculated about empty space, [while] Anton Mesmer proclaimed the existence of ‘ vital spirits ’ and Luigi Galvani wandered in the electromagnetic field ” . 73 But I would furthermore like to point to the other side of the coin of human reality that inhabits machines. What we can additionally learn from the phantasmagoria is that that which inhabits machines is also fixed in dys-functioning structures that are located at the threshold between life and death in a frightening way. Mirroring the promethean hope to artificially create life, the new technologies of seeing, projecting, speeding, connecting at the same time have reconfigured human perception in a quite ruptured way. 74 It called for those apparitions, like ghosts, that only the machine can bring forth, combining techno-logics and techno-magics of imagination. Calling up the ghosts of the past in that sense also means reanimating the terror and violence of modern life that unites man and machine. In other words, the specularity of new technologies inhabits both the horror and the promise of the machine at the same time; it is magic, and it is technic. Logics start at the moment at which the working of the machines and how to live with them is understood. But at the same time, the horrifying enigma of magic ghostly apparitions persist into modernity and are refashioned again and again in the light of new technologies. Notes 1 Étienne-Gaspard Robertson, Mémoires Récréatifs, Scientifiques et Anecdotiques [. . .], Paris 1831, vol. 1, p. 278. 2 Frans von Holbein, Eine Lebensgeschichte, Wien 1853/ 55. Here quoted according to E. T. A. Hoffmann in Aufzeichnungen seiner Freunde und Bekannten. Eine Sammlung, ed. Friedrich Schnapp, München 1974, p. 53. 3 Mervyn Heard, Phantasmagoria. The Secret Life of the Magic Lantern, Hastings 2006, p. 166. 4 Ibid., p. 8. 5 Helmar Schramm (ed.), Bühnen des Wissens. Interferenzen zwischen Kunst und Wissenschaft, Berlin 2003. 6 Gabriele Brandstetter and Gerd Neumanns (eds.), Romantische Wissenspoetik. Kunst und Wissenschaft um 1800, Würzburg 2004, p. 12. 7 On the history of the concept of spectacle, see Kati Röttger, “ Technologies of Spectacle and ‘ The Birth of the Modern World ’ . A Proposal for an Interconnected Historiographic Approach to Spectacular Cultures ” , in: Tijdschrift voor Mediageschiedenis 20/ 2 (2017), pp. 4 - 29. 8 Freiherr von der Reck, “ Nachricht von der Philidorschen Geisterbeschwörung ” , in: Berlinische Monatsschriften (1789), p. 1 and pp. 456 - 473. 9 Heard, Phantasmagoria, p. 57. 10 Middelburgsche Courant (27 and 31 December 1785). 11 Groninger Courant (17, 21, 28 March 1786 and 4 April 1786), https: / / en.wikipedia.org/ wiki/ Paul_Philidor [accessed 20 September 2019]. 12 Oprechte Haarlemse courant (23 June 1798), https: / / www.delpher.nl/ nl/ kranten/ view? coll=ddd&identifier=ddd: 010729569: mpeg21: a0012 [accessed 21 May 2021]. 13 Laurent Mannoni, “ The Phantasmagoria ” , in: Film History 8 (1996), pp. 390 - 415, here: p. 393. 14 John Tresch, The Romantic Machine. Utopian Sciences and Technology after Napoleon, Chicago/ London 2012, p. 128. See especially Johannes Beckmann, Anleitung zur Technologie, Oder Kenntniß der Handwerke, Fabriken und Manufakturen, Vornehmlich Derer, die mit der Landwirtschaft, Polizey oder Cameralwissenschft in Nächster Verbindung Stehen. Nebst Beiträgen zur Kunstgeschichte, Göttingen 1777. Here he was the first to introduce the modern notion of technology. 251 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity 15 Stefan Andriopoulos, Ghostly Apparations. German Idealism, the Gothic Novel, and Optical Media, New York 2013, p. 11. 16 Ibid., p. 163. 17 Étienne-Gaspard Robertson, Mémoires Récréatifs, Scientifiques et Anecdotiques du Physicien-Aéronaute E. G. Robertson: Connu par ses Expériences de Fantasmagorie, et par ses Ascensions Aérostatiques Dans les Principales Villes de l'Europe: Ex-Professeur de Physique au Collége Central du Ci-Devant Départment de l'Ourthe, Membre de la Société Galvanique de Paris, de la Société des Arts and des Sciences de Hambourg, et de la Société d'Émulation de Liége, Paris 1831, vol. 1, p. 27. 18 See, for the relationship between philosophy and optical media in detail: Stefan Andriopoulos, Ghostly Apparitions. German Idealism, the Gothic Novel, and Optical Media, New York 2013. 19 See also Noam Elcott, “ The Phantasmagoric ‘ Dispositif ’ : An Assembly of Bodies and Images in Real Time and Space ” , in: Grey Room 62 (2016), pp. 42 - 71. 20 Giuliano Pancaldi, Volta. Science and Culture in the Age of Enlightenment, Princeton/ Oxford 2003, p. 2. 21 Tresch, Romantic Machines, p. XI. 22 Pancaldi, Volta, p. 6. 23 Tresch, Romantic Machines, p. XII. 24 While the romantic is associated with longing for nature, self-employment, sensation, spirit, expanded experience, unintermediateness, and technophobia, the machine is commonly associated with opposite notions. 25 Jan Lazardzig, Theatermaschine und Festungsbau. Paradoxien der Wissensproduktion im 17. Jahrhundert, Berlin 2007, pp. 16 - 17. 26 John Tresch, Romantic Machines. Sciences and Technology After Napoleon, p. XI. 27 Ibid., p. 3. 28 Rupert Gaderer, Poetik der Technik: Elektrizität und Optik bei E. T. A. Hoffmann, Freiburg i.Br. 2009. 29 Siegfried Zielinski, Archäologie der Medien. Zur Tiefenzeit des technischen Hörens und Sehens, Reinbek bei Hamburg 2002, pp. 195 - 196. 30 Jürgen Barkhoff, Hartmut Böhme and Jeanne Riou (eds.), „ Vorwort. 1800 - 1900 - 2000 “ , in: Netzwerke. Eine Kulturtechnik der Moderne, Köln/ Weimar/ Wien 2004, pp. 7 - 16, here: p. 9. 31 Tresch, Romantic Machines, p. XI. 32 See Pancaldi, Volta, p. 153. 33 Ibid., p. 73. 34 Ibid., p. 123. 35 Ibid. (emphasis K. R.). 36 Ibid., p. 111. 37 Ibid., pp. 142 f. 38 Ibid., p. 5. 39 Ibid., p. 230. 40 E.-G. Robertson, “ Expériences nouvelles sur le fluide galvanique [. . .]; lues à l ’ Institut National de France le 11 fructidor an 8 ” , in: Annales de Chimie, 37 (December 1800), pp.132 - 150, here: pp. 132 - 150 and p. 132. 41 Ibid., p. 139. 42 Heard, Phantasmagoria, p. 85. 43 In Paris, he followed the lectures of Jacques Alexandre Charles, the pioneer of hydrogen gas for balloon flight (and chartering indeed the first flight in 1783), who later became Robertson ’ s mentor. 44 Robertson, “ Expériences nouvelles sur le fluide galvanique ” , p. 139. 45 Affiches, Annonces et Avis Divers 121 (20 January 1798): 2224. English translation quoted from Mannoni, ‘ The Phantasmagoria ’ , p. 150. 46 Heard, Phantasmagoria, p. 94. 47 On 1 October and 24 October 1801, see Alessandro Volta, Epistolario, vol. 4, Bologna 1953, p. 489 and p. 508. 48 Robertson, “ Expériences, nouvelles sur le fluide galvanique ” , p. 144. 49 Marina Warner, Phantasmagoria, Oxford 2006, p. 148. 50 Ibid. 51 Francois Martin Poultier-Delmotte, 28. 3. 1798, in: Marion Fulgence, The Wonders of Optics, transl. Charles W. Quinn, London 1886, p. 6. 52 Heard, Phantasmagoria, p. 98. 53 Ibid., p. 93. 54 Marina Warner, for instance, hints at Meliés and the frightening effects of the early films by the Lumière brothers preceeded by Ro- 252 Kati Röttger bertson ’ s show, in: Phantasmagoria, Oxford 2006, p. 150 and p. 156. 55 David Robinson (transl.), “ Mémoire Recreative: ‘ Robinson on Robertson ’” , in: The Ten Year Book, London 1986, p. 6. 56 Ibid. (emphases by KR). 57 Jacques Derrida, Spectres of Marx. The State of the Debt, the Work of Mourning, and the New International, London/ New York 1994, p. 2. 58 Robinson, “ Mémoire Recreative: ‘ Robinson on Robertson ’ , p. 6. 59 Ibid. 60 Pancaldi, Volta, p. 257. 61 Tresch, Romantic Machines, p. 127. 62 Jean-Marie Ampère, Essai sur la pholosophie des sciences, ou exposition analytique d ’ uns classification naturelle de toutes les connaissances humaines, vol. 1 - 2, Paris 1814, 1843, vol. 2, p. 75. 63 Heard, Phantasmagoria, p. 93. 64 E. T. A. Hoffmann, Briefe 1814 - 1822, Bd. 6, Frankfurt am Main 2004, p. 9 - 246 and p. 138. See Rupert Gaderer, Poetik der Technik: Elektrizität und Optik bei E. T. A. Hoffmann, Freiburg i.Br. 2009, p. 24. 65 Oliver Hochadel, “ Zauberhafte Aufklärung. Étienne-Gaspard de Robertson zwischen Schaustellerei und Wissenschaft ” , in: Brigitte Felderer and Ernst Strouhal (eds.), Rare Künste. Zur Kultur- und Mediengeschichte der Zauberkunst, Wien 2006, pp. 433 - 450, https: / / www.academia.edu/ 1279861/ _Zaube rhafte_Aufkl%C3%A4rung._Étienne-Gaspa rd_Robertson_zwischen_Schaustellerei_und _Wissenschaft [accessed 18 September 2020] 66 Jean-Jacques Ampère in Pierre-George Castex, Le Conte Fantastique en France de Nodier à Maupassant, Paris 1987, p. 45. 67 See “ how scientific instruments and their interpretations travel across cultural frontiers ” during the ‘ age of progress ’ , in: Pancaldi, Volta, p. 4 f., especially about the cosmopolitan network and the expert ’ s map of natural philosophers at the end of the 18 th century, see chapter 5, pp. 146 - 177. 68 See Kati Röttger, “ F@ust Version 3.0: Eine Theater- und Mediengeschichte ” , in: Christopher Balme and Markus Moninger (eds.), Crossing Media. Theater-Film-Fotografie- Neue Medien, München 2004, pp. 33 - 54. Shortened English version: Kati Röttger, “ Faust Version 3.0: A History of Theatre and Media ” , in: Journal of Culture, Language and Representation 6 (2008), pp. 31 - 46. See Tresch, Romantic Machines, chapter 2, about The Devil ’ s Opera in Paris; Rupert Gaderer, Poetik der Technik: Elektrizität und Optik bei E. T. A. Hoffmann, Freiburg i.Br. 2009, chapter 7, about Hoffmann ’ s Theater Technics. 69 George Simondon, Die Existenzweise Technischer Objekte, Zürich 2012, p. 9. 70 Ibid., p. 11. 71 Tresch, Romantic Machines, p. 13. 72 Ibid., p. 12: “ Yet in the early nineteenth century, the distinction between a machine, as that which is moved by an external force, and an organism, as a system whose motive force is internal, often broke down. The exemplary machines of the romantic era, powered by steam, electricity, and other subtle forces, could be seen to have their own motive force within them; they were presented as ambiguously alive. ” 73 Warner, Phantasmagoria, p. 10. 74 See also Bernard Stiegler, Technics and Time, 1: The Fault of Epimetheus, Paris 1994. 253 Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography Isa Wortelkamp (Leipzig) The article is dedicated to archival documents of early dance photography that are marked by traces of use, threatened by decay, or deliberately destroyed. Taking the example of the photographic series of Olga Desmond ’ s Sword Dance (phot. Otto Skowranek 1908), which is riddled with bullet holes, the aesthetic appearance and material conditions of the object will be examined in order to present different approaches to dealing with historical documents of dance photography. Following the idea of ‘ potential disturbances ’ that the art historian Peter Geimer identifies when he challenges the established history of photographic images in his essay Inadvertent Images: A History of Photographic Apparitions (Hamburg 2010), the injured surface of dance photography will be read as evidence that our view is always informed by that which remains invisible, behind the picture, and outside of its margins: the traces of its own history, found in the disturbances of our gaze. Introduction Dance photography implies a paradoxical presence of what has passed: a dancer ’ s leap before landing, the beginning of a twist, the balance of an arabesque - moments of movements. Within the photography of dance, a shift takes place from a continuously changing process of physical actions to the material framework of a picture. But at the same time, photography goes beyond the depiction and fixation of a ‘ real ’ moment and can be seen as an artwork that follows the artistic perspective of a photographer. The interferences of dance and photography - in terms of their technical and aesthetic qualities - require an interdisciplinary perspective, connecting expertise in the field of dance studies, photography, and art theory. Analysis of dance photography always has to deal with the choreographed movement and the photographed moment, with the physical action of the dancer ’ s body and the aesthetic principles and the technical conditions of the picture. Finally, as a medium of reproduction, photography has many ‘ faces ’ and appears in different forms that suggest a specific point of view and use: as print media in academic dance publications, illustrated books, and magazines, digitized in internet portals, or, last but not least, as historical reproduction or so-called ‘ vintage prints ’ in archives. As historiographical documents, they do not just bear witness to the history of what they depict, but are marked by history itself: the history of how they were made, their appearance, and their use. In their material and aesthetic composition, dance photographs refer beyond their status as relics from another time. In my research, I examine dance photography of the early 20 th century not primarily as a document of a past event, but as an encounter between two art forms at a time when dance and photography were looking for new concepts of movement. Within the development of modern dance, interest shifted towards the free presentation of movement, towards expansive and expressive gestures, rejecting the aesthetic and technical principles of classical ballet. Photography had up until then been mainly Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 254 - 263. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0023 concerned with depictions of static poses in ballet and in photographs of actors; due to the technical progress of motion photography and of impressionistic painting, photography then focused on the pictorial shaping of movement. The aesthetics of early dance photography are characterized by a reciprocal relationship between image and movement; this is reflected in art and media around 1900, in the context of the artistic and technical development of dance and photography. 1 This encounter took place predominantly in photographic studios, in which the majority of dance photographs were taken. Such photographs served as publicity for the dancers or were the result of the photographer ’ s interest in the motifs of dancers ’ movements. 2 As the interest in dance shifted towards the free presentation of movement, photography, which had, until then, mainly been concerned with the depiction of static poses in ballet and in photographs of actors, intensified to focus on the fleeting nature of the image. The ephemerality and transitory art of dance thus confronted photography ’ s qualities of fixity and reproducibility. 3 The difference between these two media justifies an understanding of photography as an image in which movement becomes the creative principle. Beyond the capturing and documentation of a single moment, movement shows itself to be an effect of the interference between dance and photography, created by both photographic and choreographic means. The view to the aesthetic of the picture relativizes the secondary status of dance photographs as a document of a past event. This secondary status has characterized the historiographical treatment of dance photography, in which photography has been understood as a depiction of reality that inevitably fails because of the difference introduced through its mediation. The aesthetics of dance photography around 1900 reveal much more than an understanding of photography in its referential and documentary functions, pointing instead to the aesthetic logic and the material conditions of the medium itself. Traces of the history of the photographic document become apparent through signs of decay and disappearance. While viewing over 4000 dance photographs in various archives, again and again I came across pictures that hardly or never found their way into historiography; on the one hand, because they depict dancers who received little attention within the dance theoretical and historical discourses; on the other hand, because the damage to the material is so extensive that no suitable reproduction sample can be created for publications. These pictures are too delicate or already destroyed beyond recognition. The destruction can be attributed to a long process of decay or can occur all of a sudden by accident or pure coincidence. The spectrum of destruction ranges from chemical variability of the material, consequences of improper restoration, abrasion by storage, and damage done by mice or flyspeck, to scratches, holes, and stains. Sometimes damage is so extensive and the cost of restoration and conservation is so high that one must ask which photographs are worth preserving and which ones are not considered to be of archival quality and value. In such cases, they fall out of the range of sight of historiography. According to these preliminary remarks, I dedicate my paper to archival documents of early dance photography that are marked by traces of use, threatened by decay, or deliberately destroyed. Traces such as scratches, holes and spots not only ‘ touch ’ the photographic material, but also the photographed body of the dancer, who together with the picture is threatened with disintegration. Therefore, I do not refer here to the much-discussed transitory nature of dance, but to all those invisible and uncertain 255 Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography aspects that accompany our dealings with dance photography. As the remains of history, these traces point to the possible decay and disappearance of the photographic material, which either is or becomes inaccessible as a historiographical document. Their absence in dance historiography reminds us of all that is unseen, stored in archives, retreating behind the universal visibility of infinitely reproducible pictures; their invisibility recalls traces of use or ageing that can be seen in photographs and interrupt our gaze. These photographs can be taken as examples of those “ potential disturbances ” that the art historian Peter Geimer identifies when he challenges the established history of photographic images in his essay Inadvertent Images: A History of Photographic Apparitions. 4 For Geimer, these disturbances are not a deficit, but represent a specific potential of photography insofar as they highlight its material conditionality in the photographic object. The paper addresses the potential of those disturbances for a methodical and theoretical approach to photography as an archival document. Taking the example of the photographic series of Olga Desmond ’ s Sword Dance (phot. Otto Skowranek 1908), riddled with bullet holes, I would like to examine their aesthetic appearance and material conditions in order to present some reflections on the historiographical treatment of early dance photography. The injured surface of the objects will be read as evidence that our view of dance photography is always informed by that which remains invisible, behind the picture, and outside of its margins: the traces of its own history, found in the disturbances of our gaze. Histories of a reflection: the photographic series on Olga Desmond ’ s Sword Dance (Schwertertanz) On a visit to the Dance Archive Cologne (Tanzarchiv Köln), I came across a series of photographs by Otto Skowraneck of Olga Desmond ’ s Sword Dance, showing the dancer in different poses. The series was published as a picture-folder by Verlag der Neuen Photographischen Gesellschaft A. G. in Steglitz-Berlin in 1910 and includes in its original form eleven silver gelatine prints (approx. 22 x 14 cm), mounted on loose sheets which are approximately equivalent to the size of the picture-folder (approx. 36 x 24 cm). This folder was published on the occasion of the performance of the dance in 1908 as part of the so-called Evenings of Beauty (Schönheitsabende), a series of events with projections of nude photography, tableaux vivants and dance performances that took place in Berlin. The Sword Dance, in which the dancer presented herself nearly naked in front of the audience, became a scandal and formed the core of the debate about naked dance at the Prussian house of representatives in 1909. 5 The performance of the dancer, arousing outrage as well as admiration in the press, became a sort of unveiling, by which the display of nakedness was brought to the awareness of the public: Miss Desmond, dressed up only with a diadem and a metal belt, dances in-between blinkingly erected sword blades a Sword Dance. She appears in a dragging, sky blue, satin coat - the music playing a seemingly oriental round dance with shrugging rhythms - suddenly the Desmond [sic] gets set, lets go of her coat abruptly and stands on the bright stage like Venus, when she was stepping on land at Paphos. 6 Opening the brown folder ’ s cover with the inscribed golden title “ Olga Desmond. 256 Isa Wortelkamp Fig. 1: Otto Skowraneck, Olga Desmond, Schwertertanz, Gelatine Silver Prints, Print: H 8 ¾ x 5 ¾, Paper: 14 1/ 8" x 9 3/ 4". 1908 Berlin © Deutsches Tanzarchiv Köln. 257 Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography Schwertertanz ” equals an unveiling in my own view as well. The photograph of the denuded body is covered with bullet holes, particularly hit on the breast, the stomach, the belt-covered genitalia and, a bit further down, the knees - misfired shots. The dancer, surrounded by the four points of swords (actually spearheads) protruding perpendicularly from the floor, stands upright in space facing the audience. Her diadem-crowned head is slightly elevated, and her eyes are directed above the lens into some empty horizon. Her almost naked body stands out brightly against the dark background. As if in contrast to the photographically staged sharpness of the metallically shiny spearheads, the flowered carpet appears to be soft and diffuse. Her legs are closed, while her straightened arms point symmetrically, and with a slight angle, sideways towards the back, emphasizing her chest. Her hands are bent upwards. The pose enhances the staged character of the scene: a body exposed to the gaze - violable and violated. Excursus with Roland Barthes: Bullet Holes as Punctum The damaged photograph of Olga Desmond is a testimony to this gaze. The act of photographing, as Roland Barthes points out in his photo-theoretical consideration Camera Lucida (1981), is always already closely connected to death. For him, the camera is an apparatus which is - equal to a rifle and triggered by a finger - executing a shot: And the person or thing photographed is the target, the referent, a kind of little simulacrum, and eidolon emitted by the object, which I should like to call the Spectrum of the Photograph, because this word retains, through its root, a relation to “ spectacle ” and adds to it that rather terrible thing which is there in every photograph: the return of the dead. 7 In the photograph of Olga Desmond, the ‘ killing ’ gaze at the dancer materializes as the gaze of the photographer and the gaze of the viewer. The latter has been leaving his traces here - every hit is a gaze at the body. Barthes, in his consideration of photography, contrasts studium with this reverse punctum, where punctum is a productive irritation and studium is a retracing of the photograph ’ s cultural and historical contexts and its condition of production. In order to comprehend punctum even more precisely, Barthes again makes use of the metaphor of the shot: This time it is not I who seek it out (as I invest the field of the studium with my sovereign consciousness), it is this element, which rises from the scene, shoots out of it like an arrow, and pierces me. A Latin word exists to designate this wound, this prick, this mark made by a pointed instrument: the word suits me all the better in that it also refers to the notion of punctuation, and because the photographs I am speaking of are in effect punctuated, sometimes even speckled with these sensitive points; precisely these marks, these wounds are so many points. This second element which will disturb the studium I shall therefore call punctum; for punctum is also: sting, speck, cut, little hole, - and also a cast of the dice. A photograph ’ s punctum is that accident which pricks me (but also bruises me, is poignant to me). 8 The bullet holes in the photograph of Olga Desmond strike and prick me. Impossible not to see them, to overlook them, in my reflection they become - way beyond the image shown - a reference to the photograph itself, its physical quality, its handling, its preservation as an object. “ Nach dem Leben photographiert ” is written beneath the bottom left of the photograph in the impressed border of the picture. This inscription implies ‘ Photographed according to life ’ as well as ‘ Photographed after life ’ , thereby indicating differ- 258 Isa Wortelkamp ent dimensions of temporality of the photographic document: firstly, the caption reminds one of the occasion of the shot, which lies at a temporal distance to the performance itself due to being - like most photographs of the time - a studio shot. At the same time, the note refers to life, to the claim of representing the actual execution of the performance, which has been denied to photography - and especially dance photography - at various points. Regarding the photographed body, the note “ Nach dem Leben photographiert ” accentuates further temporal dimensions of photography: the photograph after (the) life (temporal) and the photograph as a record of a living moment beyond (her or his) death (modal). Finally, the bullet holes add yet another presence to this continuing representation of the past: they themselves are effects of a performative act that inscribes itself as the history of the perception and handling of the photograph itself. The caption on the right side, beneath the picture - “ From the beauty-evening in Berlin ” ( “ Vom Schönheit-Abend in Berlin ” ) - is to be read as a reference to the performative act of the dancer herself. The ‘ From ’ sounds like a reverberation, a memory, and points out the crucial difference between shot and performance. In another line beneath the picture ’ s margin, the dancer ’ s name and the title of the performance are placed, centred and in capital letters; translations in French and English are positioned beneath. Information on the publisher Neue Photographische Gesellschaft A. G. Steglitz- Berlin can be found at the bottom of the sheet. The name of the photographer is not indicated. The information on the picture is also riddled, not by bullets, but by marks left by pins, found alongside the margins of the sheet - two at the top and two at the bottom. Apparently, the viewer, and/ or shooter, hung it up multiple times in order to aim their gaze and rifle at it. My own gaze at the bullet holes sways between the photograph and the photographed body, between paper and skin. The paper of the cardboard, as well as the one of the photographs, is violated. If one picks it up, one can see through it - one sees the archive, its shelves, its books, or the light falling through the window. If one turns it around, a pattern appears, vaguely swarm-like. All the photographs of the series on the Sword Dance are affected. From the librarian, I learn that the director of the archive knows the person who shot at the photographs, though would not provide any details for reasons of discretion. The fact that the picture-folder ended up in the archive - next to another non-damaged sample - indicates that, from the perspective of the archivists of the history of dance, it was to be preserved. Excursus with Richard Misrach: Photographed Traces - An Aesthetic Practice of Historiography The damaged picture-folder of Olga Desmond ’ s Sword Dance documents, way beyond dance history, a practice of image viewing commonly connected to viewing pin-up girls. This practice of image viewing, which manifests itself as a trace of violence on the surface of the photograph, has been photographically staged by the American artist Richard Misrach. The series, entitled “ Desert Cantos XI: The Playboys ” , documents two Playboy magazines which Misrach discovered in his documentation of a nuclear test site in the northwest corner of Nevada. The Playboy magazines were used for target practice by persons unknown. Although the shooters were apparently aiming at the cover girls, their bullets also pierced the interior pages, multiplying the violence within. 9 259 Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography Fig. 2: Richard Misrach, Playboy #39 (Center Fold, Playmate of the Month), from Desert Canto XI: The Playboys; 1990 - 91, Chromogenic print; Image: 46.4 x 57.8 cm (18 1/ 4 x 22 3/ 4in.) Sheet: 50.5 x 60.6 cm (19 7/ 8 x 23 7/ 8in.) © The Allan Chasanoff, B. A. 1961, Photography Collection. Due to the penetrating shots, as can be seen here, symmetries occur on the centrefolds of the magazine. The hit rate seems to be rather coincidental, the violations of the images arbitrary. The holes are somehow closed, the surfaces smoothed by the photographs on the pierced pages. At the same time, Misrach ’ s pictures perpetuate the traces of the shots, turning them into a new picture that preserves and displays its own history of viewing. On Reproduction of the Photographic Document Even as a photograph of the original photograph of Olga Desmond - as we can see before us here, a digital reproduction of the archival document - these traces are still visible, but not tactile. Although, even at the archive, I am not permitted to touch the surfaces of the photographs - and even if I could, it would only be possible through the fabric of a glove - the materiality of the image-carrier is conveyed by my looking at the archival document. My gaze is a tentative gaze by me looking. By scrupulous handling of the object, inspection at close proximity and from various angles, I experience it in its medial and material quality. Looking through the holes leads to an uncertainty of seeing and the withdrawal of visible certainty. It seems as if I have crossed a boundary in which, as the art and media scholar Steffen Siegel emphasizes, “ the material conditions of the photographic approach the limits of the image ’ s resolution and go beyond means to establish the viewing of a picture as a passage of seeing ” . 10 In this passage of seeing, the gaze fluctuates between the photograph itself and what is photographed. This fluctuation of vision, achieved through the resolution of the picture, leads to the reassurance of recognizing and remembering what is shown: Such acts of revision are attempts to reverse the transgression of the internal boundary of resolution, at least temporarily. Photographs provoke a practice of seeing that leads from the certainty of a visual datum to the uncertainty of an amorphous form. 11 In the reproduction, printed in this article, the photograph appears as a more or less homogeneous surface. The bullet holes are closed. The passage of viewing takes place in the context of the medial transference in the analogue print-raster or the raster graphics of the digital picture. The materiality of the photographic document is thereby constantly overwritten by the medium of its reproduction - it preserves the traces of time to the same extent as it extinguishes them. Whereas for book publications holes, ruptures, and other traces in photographs are often retouched, they remain almost fully preserved in their original status and remain available to us on the websites of digital picture archives. However, we do not see the object itself but, as Gerlin, Holschbach and Löffler write in their introduction to the recently published book Bilder verteilen. 260 Isa Wortelkamp Fotografische Praktiken in der digitalen Kultur (Bielefeld 2018), “ only the visible surface of a complex framework of hardand software, of human and instrumental activities, of technological and economical imperatives ” . 12 The crucial difference to analogue photography lies not only in the technological change from grain to pixel, but also in the practices that have been evolving from their embedding in digital infrastructures which they, at the same time, help to shape. Nowadays, historiographic practice mostly has to deal with hybrid forms of photography: digitized analogue photographs. Digitization takes place mostly by applying scanning technologies, by means of which pictures are formatted using JPEG, TIFF or PNG files. Once digitized, we can neither turn them nor inspect them at close proximity. Although the zoom function of our computers allows us to enable infinite magnification, it nevertheless distances us from the image - literally dissolving into pixels the ‘ picture elements ’ , which transfer the photographic detail into the orthogonal order of quadrants. Digitization determines, in this manner, our habits of image viewing and also our access to and handling of the historical documents of photography representing a large portion of the visual culture of the 19 th and 20 th century. A specific historiographic practice is required by which a photographic document can be seen (and inspected) in all the respective medial and material terms and conditions of its appearance: be it as an analogue or digital reproduction on a book page, a picture on the computer screen, a projection, and so forth. From Review to Disturbance Those blind spots, visible as scratches, holes, or any trace of use or ageing that can be seen in photography and interrupt our gaze, remind us of the materiality of the photographic document. Thereby they ‘ disturb ’ an approach to and handling of photography, in which a non-disturbed view of and towards reality is claimed to be guaranteed. The idea of transparency of the photographic medium can be traced back to a photo-historical perspective of those concepts, according to which photography is understood primarily as a physiochemical effect of a material process that assumes the presence of the depicted object. 13 It is this tradition, in which Roland Barthes ’ s photo-theoretical consideration has to be seen as well, for which the art of photography lies in the idea of vanishing as a medium: Whatever it grants to vision and whatever its manner, a photograph is always invisible: it is not it what we see. In short, the referent adheres. And this singular adherence makes it very difficult to focus on Photography. 14 For Barthes, “ the windowpane and the landscape ” are inseparably interwoven in photography. With the scratches and stains, the glass itself becomes visible and the gaze begins to oscillate between looking through and looking at. They disturb the representation-orientated interpretation of photography, insofar as these disturbances keep it present (as a medium) within the photograph. Although Barthes employs terms of physical consequences showing on the surface of the photograph such as violation, stab, hole, or cut in his elaboration of punctum, he does not however, relate them to the materiality of photography. Even in his transference of this concept to the temporality of photography - which Barthes develops within the further progression of his photo-theoretical reflection - punctum stays related to “ its pure presentation ” : “ the lacerating emphasis of noeme ( ‘ that-has-been ’ ) ” . 15 But punctum, under- 261 Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography stood as a violation of the surface of the photograph, would disrupt the logic of looking through a window and thereby suspend the idea of a transparent (and insofar vanished) medium: like a punctum within a punctum. The scratch or stain emphasizes photography within the photographed - to highlight photography ’ s status beyond its referential function as representation, as image-object. These traces can be taken as examples of those “ potential disturbances ” that Peter Geimer identifies when he challenges the established history of photographic images. For him, these disturbances are not a deficit, but represent a specific potential of photography insofar as they highlight its material conditionality in the photographic object as well as in its mediated representation. The familiar history of photography corresponds to a rather concealed history formations, stains and veils, that are being described as “ defects ” , “ parasites ” and “ enemies of the photographer ” in compendiums of the 19 th and 20 th century. 16 To integrate these “ potential disturbances ” into historiography - even into that of dance and theatre - implies regarding them as part of the photographic document that accredits this document in its specific conditionality and own rights, as an artefact, namely within the photographic object as well as in its media-historical mediation. Therein lies a consequence for the methodical handling of photography: The inestimable materiality of photography makes it necessary not only to take the finished product - the isolated, frozen image - but also to examine equally the process of its production: not only the visibility, but also the visualisation. 17 The conditions of visibility and visualisation shape - as could be shown by the description - the viewing of the photographs of Olga Desmond. In particular: its ‘ blind spots ’ invite us to highlight our approach to and handling of the historical document and to integrate this process into historiography. They serve as examples of an aesthetic of dance photography, reflected in their material and media properties, their not-infrequent appearance in series, albums, or postcards that suggest a specific point of view and use. In the context of dance academia, we often depend on the mediated appearance of dance photographs in projections or reproductions, or isolated from their publication contexts in boxes or folders of an archive, which in turn prescribes or denies a certain visibility. As damaged objects, they also point to the possible decay and disappearance of the photographic material, which either is or becomes inaccessible as a historiographical document. Their scratches, holes, and spots remind us of all that is unseen, stored in archives, retreating behind the universal visibility of infinitely reproducible pictures. Conclusion The broken series of Olga Desmond in the dance archive of Cologne can be seen as evidence that our view of dance photography is always informed by that which remains invisible, behind the picture, so to speak, and outside of its margins: the traces of its history, the disturbances of our gaze. I believe that it is precisely these ‘ blind spots ’ that call upon us to highlight the conditions and treatment of the historical document and to integrate them into historiography. In summary, the following clues can be derived for historiographic practice: (1) Beyond the secondary status of a photographic document, the media-specific aesthetic quality of dance photography no longer stands back 262 Isa Wortelkamp behind its mere referential function as representation, which inevitably has to fail in recording the moving nature of dance. (2) As a consequence, regarding the handling of a photographic document, the following can be suggested: firstly, to see it and make it visible within its respective appearance - its specific form and context; secondly, to even include (and print) those photographs that have fallen into oblivion or are in the process of being dissolved in our research and publications; thirdly, to identify and mark a digital reproduction of analogue photography as (a three-dimensional) object. (3) Finally, dance photography thus calls on historiography to reflect it as an aesthetic practice that makes and keeps the absent present: as scratches, holes and stains of our very own history. Notes 1 Tessa Jahn, Eike Wittrock and Isa Wortelkamp (eds.), Tanzfotografie. Historiografische Reflexionen der Moderne, Bielefeld 2015. 2 Gisela Barche and Claudia Jeschke, “ Bewegungsrausch und Formbestreben ” , in: Gunhild Oberzaucher-Schüller (ed.), Ausdruckstanz. Eine mitteleuropäische Bewegung der ersten Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts, Wilhelmshaven 1992, pp. 317-346, here: p. 319. 3 Françoise Le Coz, “ Le Mouvement: Loïe Fuller, ” in: Photographies. Images de Danse. Loïe Fuller, Mary Wigman, Oskar Schlemmer, 7 (1985), pp. 56 - 63. 4 Peter Geimer, Bilder aus Versehen. Eine Geschichte fotografischer Erscheinungen, Hamburg 2010. 5 Christina Templin, Eine Skandalgeschichte des Nackten und Sexuellen im Deutschen Kaiserreich 1890 - 1914, Bielefeld 2016, p. 132 - 133. 6 “ Im Kampf um die Schönheit I. Die Schönheit-Abende ” , in: Die Schönheit, Berlin, 6 (1908/ 09), pp. 265 - 278, here: p. 268. 7 Roland Barthes, Camera Lucida, Reflections on Photography, New York 1981, p. 9. 8 Ibid., p. 27. 9 Lars Nowak, “ Traces of Traces. On the Documentation of Military Landscapes by Four American Photographers: Richard Misrach, Jan Faul, Peter Goin, and David Hanson ” , in: places journal, https: / / placesjournal.org/ article/ traces-of-traces/ [accessed 1 June 2017]. 10 Steffen Siegel, “ Ich sehe was, was du nicht siehst. Zur Auflösung des Bildes, ” in: Zeitschrift für Ästhetik und Kunstwissenschaft, 58/ 2 (2013), pp. 177 - 202, here: p. 196. 11 Ibid. 12 Winfried Gerling, Susanne Holschbach and Petra Löffler, Bilder verteilen. Fotografische Praktiken in der digitalen Kultur, Bielefeld 2018, p. 8. 13 Geimer, Bilder aus Versehen. Geschichte fotografischer Erscheinungen, p. 22 f. 14 Barthes, Camera Lucida, p. 6. 15 Ibid., p. 96. 16 Geimer, Bilder aus Versehen, p. 15. 17 Ibid. 263 Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 1 Tancredi Gusman (Lucerne) Using case studies of documenta 5 (1972) and documenta 6 (1977) in Kassel, this article investigates the role of documentation (photographs, videotapes, films, and relics) in introducing performance art at large international exhibitions during the 1970s. The analysis, conducted by scrutinizing archival sources at the documenta archive, examines the roles of documentation as a medium of performance re-presentation, as a means of distribution and dissemination of this art form, and as a vehicle for marketing and collecting works of performance art. On the basis of this analysis, the article argues that, regardless of the various ways in which artists conceive the relationship between live act and its subsequent re-presentations, documentation has emerged, since the early 1970s, as a constitutive element for the establishment and acknowledgment of performance art as an autonomous genre within the field of visual arts. When visiting an exhibition presenting performance art of the past, such as Carolee Schneemann: Kinetische Malerei (Frankfurt am Main, MMK 2017) 2 or Marina Abramovic ´: The Cleaner (Firenze, Palazzo Strozzi 2018 - 19), visitors are typically confronted with images and artefacts such as photographs, videos, films, and leftovers (or “ relics ” ). In contrast to theatre and dance museums, in the context of visual arts this set of recordings and so-called relics are not conceived of merely as the traces of past events. Instead, they are used and performed as a medium of the performance artwork itself, as a site of its aesthetic representation. Indeed, numerous art performances were - and still are - conceived exclusively for the camera, while others were originally seen only by a small group of passers-by and owe their permanence in the genre ’ s memory to their documentation. In the context of theatre studies, performance studies and art history, such images and artefacts are given the collective title of performance art documentation. Because of its specificity, performance art documentation has, from the early 1990s through to the present day, stimulated a broad theoretical and historiographical interest. For almost two decades, the scholarly debate has been centred around the question of whether such mediations are adequate to convey an art form seemingly defined by its live dimension and ephemeral quality, as well as by the relation between the performer(s) and the audience that participate in the event. This question has been rendered particularly sensitive by certain canonical performance artists such as Marina Abramovic´, Chris Burden, and Terry Fox; they qualify the exchange of energy that occurs in the unique encounter between performers and participants as that which characterizes performance art. In 1979, for example, Terry Fox, speaking about performance art in an interview with Robin White, stated: It ’ s like any confrontation, it ’ s like a street accident, or a meeting, or - anything. I mean, it just happens between people who met. If you meet a friend out on the street - well, you could document that, video-tape it, photograph it, and send it to an art magazine, or Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 264 - 277. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0024 put it in a gallery - but it wouldn ’ t mean anything to anybody. 3 The debate around performance documentation eventually polarized scholars into two opposing camps: those who follow the above narrative, thereby denying the possibility of reproducing or documenting the ‘ essence ’ of performance art, such as Peggy Phelan; 4 and those who instead understand documentation as a crucial aspect of the art form, such as Amelia Jones, 5 if not an altogether constitutive part of the performance artwork itself, such as Philip Auslander. 6 At stake in this discussion, which has long dominated performance art research, is the very definition of the nature of performance art - whether it should be considered purely ephemeral, or rather acknowledged as a trans-medial art practice. In recent years, the focus of the debate has shifted to issues regarding strategies and practices of preserving, archiving, and sharing performance-based art, 7 a development catalysed in part by the growing interest of international museums and art institutions in performance art. Furthermore, various scholarly contributions have successfully demonstrated the multiplicity of the possible entanglements between live acts and their subsequent representations, thereby overcoming the idea of ‘ liveness ’ and ‘ mediatedness ’ as antinomian. 8 Recognizing the importance of the history of this debate as well as that of other emergent approaches to the topic, the research project Between Evidence and Representation: History of Performance Art Documentation from 1970 to 1977 - of which this article is one part - offers a new and original perspective on the study of performance art documentation. Here, documentation is neither investigated in its legitimacy as a medium of performance art, nor questioned from the viewpoint of the practices of conservation. Documentation is understood rather as a device whose role and status mutates throughout the history of performance art - one that is determined not only by artistic choices, but also by the strategies and paradigms enacted by agents, such as curators, museums, and galleries, to produce, display, and collect performances. Performance art and its documentation are thus not considered here as fixed terms, determined in their mutual relationship once and for all by some supposedly immutable qualities. On the contrary, different choices regarding how one produces and presents performance art - as a pure live art form or, conversely, through its images and documents - are acknowledged to affect the epistemic and aesthetic status of the art practice in contrasting ways. The history of performance art documentation, namely the history of the negotiation of the various modes and media employed in the conservation and presentation of performance art, can be therefore considered as an instrument of investigation into the establishment of canons and paradigms of the production and the reception of performance art. A crucial decade for this history is the 1970s, a time when performance-based art began to enter international exhibitions and art institutions, which up until the 1960s had been based almost exclusively on material works of art and their conservation/ collection. Throughout this process of transformation, documentation began to play an essential role because of its ability to translate temporal events into tangible images and objects. This contributed to both the definition of attributes of this new genre and to the forms of its reception. To study the history of documentation during this decade therefore means, on the one hand, studying how such performance art was contained in the field of visual arts and, on the other, how the emergence of new performance-based practices changed the system and means of art presentation and collection. 265 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 documenta 5 and 6: A Case Study One object of study that holds particular interest for this investigation is two editions of Kassel ’ s documenta: documenta 5 (1972) and 6 (1977). These two editions of the periodic exhibition each respectively hold a very different position in the historiography of contemporary art; the first was considered a pivotal ‘ turning point ’ and the second was relegated to a relatively marginal role. This narrative, one that privileges documenta 5 as a moment of rupture and innovation, has been challenged recently by Maria Bremer, who conversely highlights the relevance of the process of canonical consolidation carried out during documenta 6. 9 One of the reasons for the importance assigned to documenta 5, directed by Harald Szeemann, is the crucial impact it had on the subsequent development of the history of contemporary art curation. Via an exhibition dedicated to examining the relationship between reality and its images, 10 Szeemann and his working group introduced a thematic approach to documenta for the first time, as opposed to both the survey character/ solely qualitative selection process of previous editions and the national model of the Venice Biennale. In this new approach, the director/ curator - a kind of authorial figure supported by a team of co-curators 11 - ordered the display of artworks and events according to an overarching concept and dramaturgy. In this way, documenta became a ‘ curatorial ’ project, thereby establishing a new paradigm that would later come to dominate the international biennials of contemporary art, as pointed out by Gardner and Green. 12 For the study at hand, however, documenta 5 is interesting mainly for another reason: this edition of documenta was pivotal to the introduction of live and timebased forms within visual arts exhibitions. As early as 1969, Szeemann had begun to elaborate strategies for presenting processand concept-based art with the exhibition Live in Your Head: When Attitudes Become Form: Works - Concepts - Processes - Situations - Information, which he curated at the Kunsthalle Bern. He continued along this path of work and research in 1970 with his Happening & Fluxus (Kölnischer Kunstverein), the first historical survey on art actions and events of the 1960s. In following this trajectory, documenta 5 then, according to Szeemann ’ s initial intentions, should have been nothing less than a 100-day event, as indeed he announced in 1970: The slogan of the previous two Documentas was ‘ Museum of 100 Days ’ . This is to be replaced by ‘ the 100-day event ’ . The terms ‘ museum ’ and ‘ art exhibition ’ are associated with the conception of object-viewing, of material possession, of property transportation, property validation, and property insurance. For Documenta 5, on the contrary, it is expected that all events be prepared and staged in Kassel, and that the organisation concentrate on event planning rather than evaluating and transporting objects. 13 Evidently, ‘ performance ’ and ‘ action ’ art were initially envisioned by Szeemann, not just as one particular form to be displayed at documenta among many, but rather as the very form of the event itself. This initial concept, however, was later abandoned and replaced by the aforementioned thematic concept, because of both the high anticipated costs and the unsatisfactory results of the previous exhibition Happening & Fluxus, which he understood as a general trial for the Kassel-documenta event. 14 Included for the most part in the section “ Individual Mythologies ” , under the curatorial responsibility of Szeemann himself, performance-based art nonetheless maintained a central position in the exhibition, albeit reimagined in the vein of a more traditional museum exhibition. 266 Tancredi Gusman Five years later, with documenta 5 already on the path to becoming a foundational motif of contemporary curation, it was no longer considered feasible for the new artistic team to return to an older, non-thematic curatorial method. Manfred Schneckenburger, previously director of the Kunsthalle Cologne, took over the artistic direction of the next edition of documenta after the resignation of Karl Ruhrberg and Wieland Schmied in 1974; thereafter he opted for a sort of self-reflective approach, with his documenta 6 focusing on 1970s art, investigating the topic by means of a “ media concept ” developed together with Lothar Romain. This later edition of documenta dealt primarily with the expansion of the visual arts beyond the traditional media of painting and sculpture - although not with the inter-medial and anti-disciplinary approach that dominated the art of the 1960s. Instead, documenta 6 focused on the specificity of new and old artistic mediums, promoting a self-reflective analysis of their grammar, condition, and possibilities. This approach manifested, what we might consider, a need for order or for a conceptual reorganization of the art field after its radical questioning during the previous decade. The exhibition was divided into individual sections, each devoted to a specific medium, among which we find Performance, curated by Joachim Diederichs and consisting of a live programme, and Video, curated by Wulf Herzogenrath. Because of the role of these events in the introduction of performance art within international periodical exhibitions, the history of documenta during the seventies constitutes a fruitful case study to better understand the processes related to the containment of performance art within the field of visual arts. Moreover, because of its transnational character, documenta is also a meeting place where various ‘ actors ’ - such as artists, galleries, and museums - from a range of cultural-geographical and political-economical contexts must negotiate common practices and procedures for the exhibition, sale, and insurance of artworks and their documents. Consequently, an analysis of these two editions of documenta in unison may prove particularly useful for our purposes. At the crux of such an analysis lies a number of intriguing questions: How was performance art presented, documented, and archived in documenta 5 and 6? What was the nature of the relationship between the live event and its mediation through documents? What can the documentation practices tell us about the framework in which performance art was produced and exhibited? The documenta archive: General Remarks As it happens, the fundamental sources for answering such questions are not the images and objects themselves - those which we call performance art documentation - but rather the elements that allow us to reconstruct how such documentation has been conceptualized and used. One crucial element is the correspondence between curators, photographers, artists, and galleries; another being administrative sources (e. g. contracts and loan forms) in which the material value of artworks, as well as the question of their loan and copyright, are defined and outlined. Such sources have largely been conserved in the documenta archive in Kassel, on which collection this article is based. Examining documents of this kind means also dealing with the apparatus of procedures that determines how they have been organized and systematized; namely, the underlying logic that has guided their archiving which determines what can be known by future audiences and which aspects have the potential to be enriched by historical research. 267 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 Founded in 1961, the documenta archive has long been a municipal institution separate from the non-profit organization running the documenta exhibition. In fact, it was not until 2015 that the city of Kassel and the Hessen region signed a cooperation agreement officially rendering the archive part of the documenta and Museum Fridericianum GmbH. Because of this prior separation, the archiving processes were not directed by the work of an internal archive and there was no explicit legal obligation for documenta to hand over files and records to the archive. 15 Nevertheless, over time, a collaborative relationship has developed. The archive provides advice to the documenta team on how to produce and organize their records, and, for several years now, coordination between the two institutions has become better integrated. When we turn our analytic attention to earlier editions of documenta, such as those in the 1970s that we are considering here, we must keep in mind that the collection and classification of documents was the result of cooperation between the archive and the teams that organized each specific documenta. 16 Once an edition was finished, the documentation was handed over to the archive. The documenta archive tries to maintain order and logic according to which documents have been originally collected in folders and given to the archive; this is the result of a choice by the archive and of the agreements between the two distinct bodies. Then, through the process of indexing, the archive carries out meticulous work to clarify the structures and working methods of the individual teams, catalogues the materials, and produces search tools that help to locate them. The documenta archive, therefore, should not be considered as one which organizes single documents solely according to its own archival criteria. Rather it should be understood instead as an institution committed to preserving and making visible the processes of administration originally put in place by the exhibition teams. This condition can represent an obstacle if the research objective is to study how archival practices have conceived and classified performance art; however, it also represents a potential resource of insight, as it can provide us with a picture of the logic according to which the artistic team was operating at the time. Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 documenta 5 and 6 were events that presented performance art live, with a programme that gathered together international performance artists, 17 and also through the mediation of documents - film, videos, photographs, and relics on display in the exhibitions. In documenta 5, for example, photographs and ‘ relics ’ of actions and performances produced by Günter Brus, Hermann Nitsch, and Rudolf Schwarzkogler were presented, as were the films and videos of Vito Acconci and Dennis Oppenheim. Thus, it is apparent that by 1972, documentation already played a significant role in presenting performance art - albeit certainly not a primary one. This is also evident from the invitation Szeemann sent out to Acconci in August 1971: “ We intend to make a special section for artists whose works consist mainly in performances with or without documentation ” . 18 It seems that by the time documenta 6 took place just a few years later, performance documentation had definitively attained a high level of importance in the eyes of the artists and curators, as Joachim Diederichs clearly notes in his introduction to the performance section of the catalogue: Increasingly, the artists also remember the much-vilified institutions; Kunsthalle are 268 Tancredi Gusman accepted as useful places of intermediation. The documentation of performances also takes on a new significance. The artists, no longer seeing their spontaneity as well as the unrepeatability of the action threatened by [the risk of] being frozen in documents - as was often the case in the 1960s - now assign more importance to them. In some cases, the document becomes more important than the performance, notably in videotape. 19 From the limited information that can be drawn from the catalogues and the lists of the exhibited works, one can infer that the relevance of performance art documentation increased throughout the 1970s in correlation with an increased professionalization and institutionalization of the art form. At the same time, such information is not adequate to explain the exact functions and values, both artistic and economical, of these performance documents; nor can it definitively tell us the different strategies that were used throughout their production and presentation. Questions such as these remain hitherto largely unexplored by performance art research. In order to comprehensively investigate this issue via the chosen case study, two areas of analysis should be taken into consideration: First, the activity of producing the documentation of the live performances presented at both documenta 5 and 6; and, second, the exchanges that occurred between the professionals involved in organizing the loan, sale, and insurance of the performance art documentation on display in the exhibitions. Live Performance and Its Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 The image and press database of the documenta archive ’ s media collection contains numerous photographs of live performances enacted during documenta 5 and 6. Evidently, the photographs were taken by various photographers, most of them active in Germany. In the documentation conserved in the archive, surprisingly few exchanges between these photographers, the curatorial team, and the artists can be found. Indeed, during my own visits to the archive, I was not able to locate any trace of guidelines provided by artists or curators on how to document the performances at either documenta 5 or 6. Only in the case of Franz Erhard Walther ’ s performance demonstration I. Werksatz in documenta 5 could I find evidence of a photographic documentation of a performance work that was explicitly commissioned to a professional photographer, Timm Rautert. 20 However, in the folders of documenta 5 one can find several requests for photographic permissions from independent photographers, students, and freelance reporters. There is also no trace whatsoever of any performances being made exclusively accessible to specific photographers selected by documenta staff. This information confirms the preliminary indications I received from Alexander Zeisberg, former head of the Media Archive. Only occasionally, Zeisberg informed me, was the documentation of the art on display at documenta carried out by photographers officially appointed by documenta, or photographers who worked following guidelines provided by documenta. 21 The documentation of the live performances at documenta 5 and 6 therefore seems to have been considered, both by the curatorial team and by the artists, as a supplementary element - one that merely served informative-documentary purposes. In short, the documentation of live performance does not seem to have been properly understood as being fundamentally different to the documentation of the other types of artwork exhibited at documenta (such as paintings, sculptures, installations). This conjecture is substantiated by the fact that the rights of the images remained, in most 269 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 cases, with the photographers themselves - the photographs were considered to be the work of the photographers and not the original artists. There are a number of letters between members of the curatorial team and the artists participating at documenta 5 and 6 that provide us with further insight into how the documentation of live performances was conceived and produced. In September 1972, shortly after leaving Kassel, two American artists - Terry Fox and Howard Fried - contacted documenta requesting the documentation recorded during their performances; this consisted of photographic material, in the case of Fox, and of video material, in the case of Fried. In both cases, there does not seem to have been any previous agreements made regarding this issue, nor does it appear that the artists considered such pictures and recordings to be in some way a component of their work. 22 That said, both artists did inform their interlocutors of another type of documentation that was carried out under their supervision: in Fried ’ s case, photographs taken during the performance in Kassel - which he promised to subsequently send to Szeemann - and in Fox ’ s case, a videotape, probably shot later in Paris. In his letter to Just, Fox wrote: Some photos were taken from my action, at least on the first day, though no photos were taken at the last day which was the strongest and involved the most action - would you please have some of these photos sent to me [. . .] Also when I finished my action I have made a sculpture - when the stone bowl is dry could you have a photo made and send it to me? The videotaping went extremely well here - I have made a 25 min. tape of real be[a] utiful color, like [illegible] animated color slides. 23 The distinction between documents produced under the artist ’ s supervision and documents produced by independent photographers and filmmakers can also be found in the case of Gina Pane ’ s performance piece A Hot Afternoon. As research has amply demonstrated, photography in fact plays a fundamental role in Gina Pane ’ s performance and body art. 24 The French artist worked from 1970 to 1980 with a specific photographer, Françoise Masson, whose images were intended to be a medial component of the performance art itself. The pictures were generally produced as colour photographic prints and arranged by Pane in compositions she called “ Constats ” . 25 The image and press database of the documenta archive contains several photographs of A Hot Afternoon. They were taken, however, by two different photographers: Ingrid Fingerling and Dieter Schwerdtle. The two series are clearly distinguished by their respective styles; it is apparent in Fingerling ’ s choice of colour pictures (diapositives) (Fig. 1), whereas Schwerdtle chose black and white pictures (Fig. 2). To date, there are no photographs in the archive by Masson. As indicated by the exchange of letters between Gina Pane and Diederichs however, it is clear the French artist brought her own photographer along with her to Kassel to document her performance. 26 Precisely four pictures of the performance taken by Masson appeared a few months later in the ‘ Artist ’ s Chronicle ’ section of the American magazine High Performance. 27 Evidently, when it came to providing a precise representation of her work, the artist chose the pictures taken by Masson. Masson ’ s photographs - probably the result of meticulous planning with Gina Pane - now form the “ Constat ” , the documentary composition and visual artwork originating from the action (Fig. 3). 28 Despite the limited information and sources available, it is possible to assert that we are faced here with two contrasting 270 Tancredi Gusman types of documentation of performance art: a documentation carried out under the direct or indirect control of the artist, to which she/ he assigns a representative character of her/ his artwork; or a documentation produced by independent professionals, considered merely as informative material intended to supplement the respective performance event. The Role of Documentation in the Circulation of Performance Art The aforementioned arguments do not, however, necessarily mean that documentation prepared under the control of the artists always had an explicitly aesthetic function, nor that the artists themselves necessarily considered such documentation as an integral part of their work. It should also not be forgotten that we are dealing with a range of artists - each very different from one another, and each distinguished by their own approach to the documentation of their performances. However, it seems one general fact can be gleaned from an analysis of the exchanges between curators, gallery owners, and artists: visual and audiovisual documentation, it appears, was indeed already a central device for performance art by the time of documenta 5 - not only regarding the exhibition of the performance, but also from an organizational-professional perspective. Among the various correspondences relating to the organization of documenta 5 and 6, one can find numerous requests for visual materials from curators to artists or their representatives. These visual materials - mostly photographs or frames of videos and films - have at least two fundamental functions: they serve as an element in the selection process of the artists who participate in the exhibitions, and they provide a representation of the works within the exhibition catalogue. It is therefore clear how crucial it was for artists to have an adequate dossier of images and documents in a transnational and highly professional artistic field. The temporal and ephemeral nature of these actions made the function of these documents even more integral to this process, since in some cases they became the only access to a particular performance artist ’ s body of work. If we return briefly to Terry Fox and Howard Fried, to the letters exchanged between their gallery Reese Palley (San Francisco) and Harald Szeemann, we discover that not only did Fox produce a video specifically for documenta (Clutch), but also that Howard Fried took photographs of the performance Indian War Dance before its first public presentation scheduled in Kassel. 29 More than merely a document of the performance, then, the documentation here clearly also functions as a preliminary representation and photographic narration of the performances to come. The photos included in the catalogues of documenta 5 and 6 were in fact produced or chosen by the artists, for whom it was obviously a central means of dissemination of their work. Joan Jonas, in her exchange with Szeemann and in the face of conditions which were not ideal, specifically underlined how important it was for her to be included in the catalogue. 30 Moreover, in the lead up to documenta 6, Scott Burton sent out the negatives and photographic copies in colour for the catalogue, providing precise directions on how they should look in print by drawing out narrowed margins and requesting that the pictures be printed in black and white: These will be ok in black and white. Please crop them as I have shown (to represent equally both halves of the performing area). The standing pose should be above, the lying one below. They represent the two halves of the performance. 31 271 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 Although these may seem like minor details, they certainly should not be considered as such. The anti-documentary position which has dominated the collective narrative of artists and scholars who have dedicated themselves to performance art does not take into account the fact that, within the field of visual arts at least, performance art presents itself as one of the forms most closely related to technical reproducibility. Thus, regardless of the role that individual artists may assign to documentation, the possibility of producing and disseminating recordings and images of such performances is a fundamental requirement for the professionalization of the genre in an increasingly international and de-territorialized artistic context. We can therefore assume that the ability to produce and manage a complex spectrum of media has been a central element in the affirmation of artists such as Chris Burden, Vito Acconci, and Marina Abramovic´, who more so than others have been successful in circulating within the international imagination swiftly and incisively. The development of this centrality of documentation and recording of performances also leads to an increasingly central role for galleries - the intermediaries who are in fact able to provide infrastructure for the production of documents as well as their international distribution and who, just as importantly, possess the expertise to define the contractual and economic aspects necessary for the subsistence of artists in a commercial system and market economy. Documentation and the Economy of Performance Art In the transition from the utopian and radical 1960s to the relatively stable and professionalized ’ 70s, one of the most pressing issues of performance-based art concerned the economy of this new art form. The entry of a form of live art into a commercial system organized around permanent and transportable art objects forced visual art actors to develop strategies that guaranteed the sustainability of this new artistic genre. As the critic John Howell states in a 1977 text, in German translation, contained in the folder of Georg Jappe (who was responsible for selecting the press reviews for documenta 6): Despite this recognition, some serious, vital problems remain unsolved: Money is at the top of the list. Art galleries are faced with the problem of how to earn money from a work that is ephemeral or at best only secondarily an object. How one could turn interest into active support is also the question for the performers who attempt to achieve from a temporal medium the elusive goal of all artists: a living. 32 The idea of an art form that is not based on the possession of objects, expressed in the first concept of documenta 5 by Szeemann, in some ways remains a dream that is difficult to achieve in reality, especially within the context of visual arts and a market economy. The general fees, travel expenses, and daily allowances paid to the artists participating in these international events was, generally speaking, just sufficient for artists to survive on. In this context, documentation undoubtedly played an important role. For instance, action photographs taken by Hermann Nitsch and Rudolf Schwarzkogler and performance photos by Gilbert and George were on sale at documenta 5. From the letters exchanged between Anatol Herzfeld and documenta following documenta 5, we learn that some of the objects produced during Herzfeld ’ s performance in Kassel were later to be exhibited and offered for sale. 33 However, the media which seem to hold the greatest potential as vehicles for creating an economy of perfor- 272 Tancredi Gusman mance and ephemeral art forms are in fact audiovisual media. At documenta 5, Gerry Schum, a pioneer of video and television art, clearly defines the status of the videotapes - sent to documenta 5 for exhibition by his Videogalerie Schum - as art objects: “ As with traditional art objects, commercial use of the tapes and lending to other institutes is not permitted ” . 34 The videos and films presented by artists at documenta 5 were indeed on sale, as were the other works exhibited during the event. Because of their ephemeral and reproducible character, however, their cost was still significantly lower than that of traditional media, such as painting. In any case, if we compare documenta 5 to documenta 6, different data indicates that the field of audiovisual media was undergoing an important development during this time. Video was clearly becoming an increasingly autonomous art-medium (i. e. video art) and not just a means of recording artists ’ actions; a remarkable professionalization also took place regarding its production and distribution. Organisations such as Castelli-Sonnabend Tapes & Films and Electronic Arts Intermix (New York) emerged, specializing in the production and circulation of videotapes and managing large catalogues of artists. From the letters exchanged between these organisations and the curatorial team of documenta, it is apparent how this development was accompanied by a professionalization of the field at large; a kind of institutionalization of the definition of procedures and standards that had begun to function as overarching paradigms. In various letters and on various occasions, for example, Howard Wise (EAI) and Joyce Nereaux (Castelli-Sonnabend) refer to the same custom regarding the loan of videotapes: “ Many museums that are not able to pay regular rental and sale fees pay an honorarium of $100.00 plus the cost of the tape for each artist participating in an exhibition ” . 35 Thus, it seems the economy of video remained minimal and residual compared to the traditional genres of visual arts; nevertheless, video remained the vehicle which seemed to guarantee the greatest potential for commercial response to performance-based art. The use of video also provided art galleries, whose contribution in terms of production and distribution infrastructure was essential, with a greater level of influence. Television was another potential vehicle for the transmission of performance art experimented with during documenta 6 and should not be left unmentioned. Indeed, parts of the artists ’ videos presented at documenta 6 were broadcast in an evening programme each Wednesday for a few weeks on the German television channel WDR. The opening of the same artistic event was represented by three performances, by Nam June Paik, Joseph Beuys, and Douglas Davis respectively, and broadcast live on national and international channels. For many artists and organizers - including the aforementioned Gerry Schum - television was a source of great fascination and interest, seemingly holding the potential to democratize art by ensuring its mass distribution independent of the circuit of museums and galleries. However, the difficulty of attracting the interest of an extensive and diverse range of the public, and of combining the timing and the dramaturgy of television with those of artistic practices soon highlighted a series of obstacles difficult to overcome - thereby defusing this somewhat utopian impulse. Unique through Reproductions: Performance Art and Its Documentation The above exploration of documenta 5 and 6 can provide a more general insight into 1970s ’ performance art and documentation, 273 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 namely that the relationship between performance and documentation appears to be fundamental to the institutionalization and professionalization of performance art. Indeed, it was documentation that guaranteed the art form the possibility of participating in a set of exchanges which characterizes the visual arts apparatus: from the process of selecting artists for exhibitions, to the international circulation and promotion of their works, to their eventual entry into museum collections. This fact brings into question the typical dichotomy between unicity and reproducibility, which for a long time guided the narrative of performance art. Quite the contrary, the reproducibility of performance art, the very possibility of its uniqueness being iterated in multiple media - through photographs, videos, or in the form of relics - reveals itself as a constitutive trait in the acknowledgment of this new genre within the field of visual arts. Unlike traditional artworks, which exist in the single space and time of their materiality, performance art instead exists and endures via its continuous displacement through subsequent reproductions. Thus, it is in and through this unique intertwining that performance art in the 1970s set a model for the development of an economy of the ephemeral, which later came to acquire a relevant position in contemporary art and its global events. Fig. 1: Performance “ A hot afternoon ” / “ Ein heißer Nachmittag ” (Detail) by Gina Pane. documenta 6 (1977). © Gina Pane / VG Bild-Kunst © documenta archiv / Photographer: Ingrid Fingerling. Fig. 2: Performance “ A hot afternoon ” / “ Ein heißer Nachmittag ” (Detail) by Gina Pane. documenta 6 (1977). © Gina Pane / VG Bild-Kunst © documenta archiv / Photographer: Dieter Schwerdtle. Fig. 3: Gina Pane, Action “ A Hot Afternoon ” (Detail), July 1, 1977. “ Constat ” [report/ record] of the action carried out at documenta 6, Kassel. 6 elements: 18 colour photographs, 1 black-and-white photograph, drawings in felt-tip pen and coloured pencil, Canson black 51.5 x 335.5 cm. Photographer: Françoise Masson. © Adagp Gina Pane, courtesy of Anne Marchand. 274 Tancredi Gusman Notes 1 This article is part of a project that has received funding from the European Union ’ s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under the Marie Sk ł odowska-Curie grant agreement No. 747881. The information and views set out here reflect only those of the author and the Research Executive Agency (REA) and the European Commission (EC) are not responsible for any use that may be made of the information contained therein. 2 The exhibition was the result of a cooperation between the Museum der Moderne Salzburg (2015 - 2016) and the MMK Museum of Modern Art Frankfurt am Main and was later brought to MoMA PS1 in New York (2017 - 2018). 3 Robin White, “ An Interview with Terry Fox ” , in: Gregory Battcock and Robert Nickas (eds.), The Art of Performance: A Critical Anthology, New York 1984, pp. 199 - 221, here p. 205. 4 See Peggy Phelan, Unmarked: The Politics of Performance, London/ New York 1993. 5 See Amelia Jones, “‘ Presence ’ in Absentia: Experiencing Performance as Documentation ” , in: Art Journal 56/ 4 (1997), pp. 11 - 18. 6 See Philip Auslander, “ The Performativity of Performance Documentation ” , in: PAJ: A Journal of Performance and Art 28/ 3 (2006), pp. 1 - 10. 7 See, for example, the anthologies by Barbara Büscher and Franz Anton Cramer (eds.), Fluid Access: Archiving Performance-Based Arts, Hildesheim, Zürich/ New York 2017; and Gabriella Giannachi and Jonah Westerman (eds.), Histories of Performance Documentation: Museum, Artistic, and Scholarly Practices, New York 2018. 8 See, for example, Nick Kaye, “ Liveness and the Entanglement with Things ” , in: Paul Clarke et al. (eds.), Artists in the Archive: Creative and Curatorial Engagements with Documents of Art and Performance, London 2018, pp. 25 - 51; and Mechtild Widrich, “ Can Photographs Make It So? Repeated Outbreaks of VALIE EXPORT ’ s Genital Panic since 1969 ” , in: Amelia Jones and Adrian Heathfield (eds.), Perform, Repeat, Record: Live Art in History, Bristol 2012, pp. 89 - 104. 9 See Maria Bremer, “ Modes of Making Art History: Looking Back at documenta 5 and documenta 6 ” , in: Stedelijk Studies, 2 (2015), https: / / stedelijkstudies.com/ journal/ modesof-making-art-history/ [accessed 25 June 2021]. 10 The title of the exhibition was Befragung der Realität: Bildwelten heute [Questioning Reality: Image Worlds Today]. The final concept was co-authored by Harald Szeemann, Jean- Christoph Ammann and Bazon Brock. 11 For the list of members of the working group as well as that of the freelance collaborators who were responsible for single sections of the exhibition, see the exhibition catalogue of documenta 5: Befragung der Realität, Bildwelten heute: Kassel, 30. Juni bis 8. Oktober 1972, exh. cat., Kassel 1972. 12 See Anthony Gardner and Charles Green, Biennials, Triennials and Documenta: The Exhibitions that Created Contemporary Art, Chichester/ West Sussex 2016, p. 20. 13 Harald Szeemann, “ documenta V: 100 Tage Ereignis ” , in: Informationen 1/ 9 (1970), p. 1. The text published in Informationen was compiled and approved on April 28 by Harald Szeemann, Karl Oskar Blase, Arnold Bode, Bazon Brock, Werner Hofmann, and Peter Iden (German: “ Der Slogan der letzten beiden Documenten lautete ‚ Museum der 100 Tage ‘ . An dessen Stelle soll ‚ Das 100- Tage-Ereignis ‘ treten. Mit den Begriffen Museum und Kunstausstellung verbindet sich die Vorstellung von Objektsichtung, von materiellem Besitz, Besitztransport, Besitzbestätigung, Versicherung von Besitz. Für Documenta 5 ist dagegen zu erwarten, dass alle Ereignisse in Kassel vorbereitet und inszeniert werden und dass die Organisation sich konzentriert auf die Ereignisprogrammierung und nicht auf die Jurierung und den Transport von Objekten ” ). 14 See Friedhelm Scharf, “ Zur Geschichte der documenta 5: Eine quellenkundliche Revue ” , in: Roland Nachtigäller, Friedhelm Scharf and Karin Stengel (eds.), Wiedervor- 275 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 lage d5: Eine Befragung des Archivs zur documenta 1972, Ostfildern-Ruit 2001, pp. 24 - 26. 15 See Karin Stengel interviewed by Mark- Christian von Busse: “ documenta-Archiv braucht einen Quantensprung ” , in: Hessische/ Niedersächsische Allgemeine, 15 April 2013, https: / / www.hna.de/ kultur/ leiterinkarin-stengel-documenta-archiv-braucht-einen-quantensprung-2853364.html [accessed 25 June 2021]. 16 From 1969 to 1973, after the death of Lucy von Weiher, the documenta archive remained without scholarly direction, a situation that caused remarkable lacunas [see Karin Stengel, “ Archiv am Wendepunkt: Bilanz und Aufbruch ” , in: Nachtigäller et al., Wiedervorlage d5, p. 15]. 17 The programme of documenta 5 comprised performances/ actions by Vito Acconci, Anatol Herzfeld, Bertram Weigel, James Lee Byars, Joseph Beuys, Gino de Dominicis, Terry Fox, Howard Fried, Gilbert & George, Rebecca Horn, Joan Jonas, Vettor Pisani, Klaus Rinke, Fritz Schwegler, Keith Sonnier, Transparent Teachers ’ Ink., Ben Vautier, Franz Erhard Walther. The “ performance ” section of documenta 6 presented live performances by Laurie Anderson, Ben D ’ Armagnac, Jared Bark, Stuart Brisley, Chris Burden, Scott Burton, Ralston Farina, Tina Girouard, Jürgen Klauke, Bruce McLean, Antoni Miralda, Gina Pane, Reindeer Werk, Helmut Schober and HA Schult. 18 Harald Szeemann, letter to Vito Acconci, 09 August 1971, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 58. 19 Joachim Diederichs, “ Zum Begriff ‘ Performance ’” , in: Documenta and Manfred Schneckenburger (eds.), Documenta 6, exh. cat., Kassel 1977, vol. I, pp. 281 - 283, here p. 281 (German: “ In zunehmenden Maßen erinnern sich die Künstler auch wieder der vielgeschmähten Institutionen; Kunsthallen werden als doch brauchbare Orte der Vermittlung akzeptiert. Auch die Dokumentation der Performances erhält einen neuen Stellenwert. Die Künstler, die nicht mehr - wie vielfach in den 60er Jahren - sich in ihrer Spontanität und der Unwiederholbarkeit der Aktion durch Festgeschriebensein in Dokumenten gefährdet sehen, weisen ihr mehr Bedeutung zu. In manchen Fällen wird dabei das Dokument wichtiger als die Performance, namentlich beim Videotape ” ). 20 See Timm Rautert ’ s cost estimation [received by documenta on 24 April 1972] and Gerald Just ’ s confirmation of the assignment to Timm Rautert, 25 April 1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 57. 21 At least up until documenta 14 (2017), in which he prepared a set of documentation guidelines for photographers. 22 See Howard Fried, letter to Gerald Just, 12 September 1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 59; and Terry Fox, Letter to Gerald Just, [received by documenta on 06 September 1972], documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 61. 23 Terry Fox, letter to Gerald Just, received by documenta on 06 September 1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 61. 24 See Alice Maude-Roxby, “ The Delicate Art of Documenting Performance ” , in: Adrian George (ed.), Art, Lies and Videotape: Exposing Performance, Liverpool/ London 2003, pp. 66 - 77. 25 See Alice Maude-Roxby and Dinu Li, “ The Performance Document: Assimilations of Gesture and Genre ” , in: Photography and Culture 11/ 2 (2018), pp. 197 - 209, p. 198. 26 See, in particular, the handwritten notes sent by Gina Pane to documenta containing organizational details, undated, documenta archiv, AA, d6, Mappe 74. 27 Gina Pane, “ A Hot Afternoon ” , in: High Performance, 1/ 2 (1978), pp. 18 - 19. Unlike the photographs that constitute the “ Constat ” of the work, Masson ’ s photographs printed in High Performance are in black and white. The house style of the magazine required all artists to send black and white, glossy photos. 28 Except for one picture, the images by Masson used in the “ Constat ” are not identical to those printed in High Performance. 29 See Carol Lindsley, letter to Harald Szeemann, 17 January1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 61. 276 Tancredi Gusman 30 See Joan Jonas, letter to Harald Szeemann, 04 March 1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 60. 31 Scott Burton, notes and photographs sent to documenta, undated, documenta archiv, AA, d6, Mappe 78. 32 It was not possible to identify the publication origin or destination of this text. The text is not related to documenta 6 but in all probability, was written for, or as a comment/ review on, “ Concept in Performance ” , a performance programme curated by Elisabeth Jappe at the International Kunstmarkt of Cologne in the same year, i. e. 1977. See John Howell, translation in typescript, 1977 [uncertain date], documenta archiv, AA, d6, Mappe 52 b, pp. 6 - 7. The last sentence in this passage contains illegible portions toward the end, which have nonetheless been interpreted here by comparison with a piece from the same year by John Howell in English, addressing the same issue in words closely mirroring the German typescript [John Howell, “ Art Performance: New York ” , in: PAJ: Performing Arts Journal, 1/ 3 (1977), pp. 28 - 39]; (German.: Trotz dieser Anerkennung bleiben einige gravierende, lebenswichtige Probleme ungelöst. Geld steht dabei an erster Stelle. Die Kunstgallerien [sic] sehen sich vor dem Problem, wie sie an einem Werk verdienen sollen, das vergänglich oder bestenfalls nur sekundär ein Objekt ist. Wie man Interesse in tatkräftige Unterstützung umwandeln könnte, ist auch die Frage für die Darsteller, die den Versuch unternehmen wollen, aus einem temporären Medium das vielerstrebte Ziel aller Künstler zu machen: einen Lebensunterhalt. “ ). 33 See Anatol Herzfeld, letter to Harald Szeemann, 01 November 1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 54. 34 Gerry Schum, letter to Harald Szeemann, 10 April 1972, documenta archiv, AA, d5, Mappe 106 (German: “ Kommerzielle Ausnutzung der Tapes sowie Verleih an andere Institute ist wie bei traditionellen Kunstobjekten nicht ohne weiteres möglich ” ). 35 Joyce Nereaux, letter to Wulf Herzogenrath and Manfred Schneckenburger, 17 November 1976, documenta archiv, AA, d6, Mappe 102. 277 Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes (Amsterdam) James Joyce ’ s late work, FinnegansWake (1939), necessitates shared reading like few others: its phonetic focus requires it to be read aloud, and the multiplicity of languages and fields of knowledge used makes the presence of others indispensable. Since Joyce ’ s canonization, reading groups of his works have often been led by English Literature scholars, but they do not usually take place in university departments, rather in cafes, book shops and art spaces. What does this mean for the kinds of knowledge referenced and conjured? In 2013, Dora García filmed The Joycean Society. The curator Maria Lind has called both The Joycean Society and the Zurich Finnegans Wake reading group that it documents “ stealth activities ” . Her essay is entitled “ The Triumph of the Nerds ” . What modes of knowledge (and, therefore, which politics) does this communal reading practice then entail? The curator Maria Lind has called the documentary artwork The Joycean Society and its subject, the Zurich James Joyce Foundation ’ s reading group devoted to the writer ’ s late, cryptic work Finnegans Wake “ stealth activities ” . 1 Lind ’ s 2014 review of Dora García ’ s work from the previous year is entitled “ The Triumph of the Nerds ” . Here, I would like to explore how one may understand this praise in the contexts of Joyce and of art that has responded to him in both the West and in Central/ Eastern Europe. I close with a call to arms, or rather: to books for communal reading. Umberto Eco ’ s book Opera Aperta (The Open Work) from 1962 consists of two parts, a general one that visual artists of the time on the European continent read with great interest, and a second part entitled “ The Poetics of Joyce ” . 2 James Joyce became the main example for theorising openness as the basis of both artworks and their active interpretation. Reading and viewing were no longer passive pursuits but themselves creative endeavours, empowering anyone to perceive and thus also to construct their personally inflected meaning, even to tell their own story in and through the interpretation of cultural artefacts while going further and further into an ever-changing depth. While it is still possible to make (factual) mistakes in an interpretation of an open artwork, the task of the author is no longer seen as clearly communicating one thing in only one way and the reader receiving it in the same manner. The recipients are instead assumed to have the intelligence to think and feel for themselves and the desire to take on responsibility for the future life of the artwork. Responsibility is an important word here. It does not imply that the viewer or reader is more perfect than the mistake-making characters in the book, but the trust that active reception will happen to the best of our abilities is considered to be a compliment, as an enriching, important task for a diverse group of people who will accept it. 3 Joyce ’ s later work, Finnegans Wake, 1939, e. g. by employing over 40 languages, specifically calls for being read in a group that should be composed of as many differently educated and acculturated members. Joyce is canonical modernist literature, 4 yet there is Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 278 - 287. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0025 an uneasy connection that Joyce ’ s (late) work seems to have with both that usually statusquo preserving canonicity and a performance of dissident knowing, of marginal, counter-hegemonic community-formation. Thus, in this paper I am not so much addressing the historical knowledge of the volume ’ s title, but I am interested in the performance of reading Finnegans Wake in groups of like-minded but diverse people over a long period of time. I consider this activity as a production of knowledge that is located between the heights of academic endeavour (if Finnegans Wake could be considered the humanities ’ equivalent of rocket science) and the kind of knowledge that we now associate with artistic research (better: art research). The Joyce industry in Western countries grew from the 1960s and became important as a rigorous, theory-forming community. In the 1970s, the writer had become too apolitical for many in that circle, until the 1980s saw a partial re-assessment on postcolonial grounds. 5 Joyce was from Ireland after all and a life-long (however voluntary) migrant. Thus, when socio-politically committed visual art practices were developed in the late 1960s and 1970s, one might imagine that Joyce was far from artists ’ minds. The opposite is the case: artists did not follow literary scholars in their assessment of the supposedly apolitical nature of the writer. Martha Rosler, who came to prominence with her House Beautiful: Bringing the War Home (1967 - 1972) collages against the Vietnam War, had published an article on Joyce ’ s Ulysses as an undergraduate. She was to pursue her interest in his writing, in language, images and their relation through work such as The Bowery in Two Inadequate Descriptive Systems (1974/ 75) where it is obvious that neither the photographs of empty bottles in doorways, nor the many words for ‘ drunk ’ listed, capture the lives of homeless alcoholics. 6 Joyce ’ s project is characterized by compassionate but unsentimental attention for those less than privileged, by an experimental attitude to language and all aspects of the book, and by a belief in recurrence with a difference, history ’ s impermanence that most people in power would view as threatening. Martha Nussbaum has asserted the importance of a Joycean love and acceptance of a messy world in helping to enable democracy. 7 I included Martha Rosler ’ s Bowery work in my curated Joyce in Art exhibition for the centenary of Bloomsday, the day on which Ulysses is set in 1904 in Dublin. Accompanying the exhibition, Rosler also held one of her Monumental Garage Sales in Dublin, ensuring that art would reach into the modern city ’ s life, even economically - and Joyce would not be seen so much as just a canonical figure, but rather as someone who, for example, had the difficulties of procuring funds in the forefront of his mind for most of his life. In terms of the exhibition ’ s reception, I had a sense that, for some visitors (and critics), the inclusion of Rosler, Joseph Beuys, and many other politically thinking artists of that era was not enough to counterbalance the Celtic Tiger economy ’ s interest in the pure, i. e. ‘ meaning-free ’ canonicity of Joyce that made reading appear almost unnecessary. The name Joyce was deceptively well ‘ illustrated ’ and ‘ celebrated ’ by means of a lovely-looking exhibition with further big names. 8 An envisaged performance of reading Finnegans Wake by Noel Sheridan could not happen due to copyright restrictions imposed by the copyrightholder, the grandson of the cash-strapped writer. This further evidences the entanglement of exhibitions in their socio-political and financial context, but as an absence, it also further excluded performative elements that could point the visitors to the present. In reflecting on the exhibition and further current artwork in the Blackwell Companion to Joyce (2007), I considered communal 279 The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University reading of Finnegans Wake, which I had experienced during a nine-month research period at the Zurich Joyce Foundation, as something akin to the formats that artists were choosing for their works in the 2000s. 9 Since then, in Amsterdam, Mariana Lanari has organized a Finnegans Wake reading group at the gallery Rong Wrong. 10 This is work, a way of thinking and doing that no longer seems strange and apparently attracted the interest of artists and a gallerist. Such practice is arguably steadily moving into prominence in the art world. The artist Dora García, mentioned at the outset, created The Joycean Society, her documentary film of the Finnegans Wake reading group in Zurich in 2013, and showed this work at the Venice Biennial. 11 At the previous Biennial (2011), she had presented The Inadequate, a project focused on the inadequacy of representation (of a country by an artist and vice versa) that consisted mainly of performances, interviews, and discussions, held on a large platform: discussions of Joyce ’ s works by and with Joyce scholars. These were complemented by Instant Narrative, another work, written there and then, with and about the visitors: a proliferating word/ text production machine came into existence, where Joyce was central to the aim of countering national and other certainties. Also, in The Joycean Society, García cannot remain outside the work. The crew filming and doing the sound are clearly present and become members of an always slightly shifting group. Its core members have now read through Wake three times in approximately 30 years. García returned to both Joyce and the Venice Biennial in 2015 with The Sinthome Score. She re-published Jacques Lacan ’ s twentythird seminar on Joyce with accompanying (modern dance) poses: a compendium of Joyce scholarship to be read aloud and (re-) performed. Meaning is communally produced in the moment. A pattern emerges where artists and others occupy themselves and their audiences with Joyce in order to advance from positivist knowledge to a more (social) constructionist episteme. Their focus, therefore, cannot be just to present something, but to create a potentially open situation for experiences, or epiphanies (a term secularized by Joyce in his early career). It was not just artists such as Rosler and Joseph Beuys who considered Joyce far from apolitical and canonical in a disabling way. In 1970, Maurice Stein and Larry Miller from CAL Arts, Los Angeles, published their Blueprint for Counter Education. This contains three wall charts that, graffiti-like, create an environment for democratic discourses and horizontal forms of interpreting the world, sharing, and learning. Joyce interestingly has a place in all three wall charts. If he doesn ’ t appear as the conceptual anchor point of the layout it is because Marshall McLuhan, an avowed Joyce enthusiast, has displaced the writer. The Blueprint for Counter Education with its wall charts was republished in 2017 and serves as an exhibit itself and a take-home version of the exhibition Learning Laboratories at BAK, Utrecht, conceived by Tom Holert. 12 Holert is a writer who has theorized artistic research in important ways: as something that answers to an impetus coming from both the artistic and the academic side. 13 The thematic focus at BAK (Basis voor aktuele kunst), of which this project is part, is entitled Future Vocabularies / Instituting Otherwise. It is, from what has been outlined, clear that Joyce developed a new language or new (future) vocabularies and, I am arguing, that - with his late work making the horizontally organized but knowledge-generating reading group at a high academic level indispensable - he has in this sense ‘ instituted otherwise ’ . I argue this to have been the case at least indirectly, through those concretely envi- 280 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes sioning alternative educational models who reference his name in this context, but also more directly through reading groups as affordance or necessity spawned by his books. We can here consider Joyce as standing for a larger frame, a worldview, where artists and educators find themselves empowered and wish their audiences or students to be the same. Joseph Beuys in the 1950s already considered the right response to Joyce to be a sequel - and, importantly, not an illustration: his work Ulysses Extension (1958 - 1962), is a compendium of drawings. It is properly entitled Joseph Beuys Extends at James Joyce ’ s Request Ulysses by Two Chapters. Subsequently, in an even freer, more independent or indirect response (nearly a stealth activity, one could say), Beuys called his teaching at the Dusseldorf Academy his “ greatest work of art ” . He (co-)founded the Free International University (FIU) for Interdisciplinary Research through travels around Joyce ’ s home country Ireland in 1974 and then gave it a temporary home in large exhibition format for documenta 6 in Kassel, in 1977. There, discussions were held, migration workshops with Irish and other guests, where art and politics were intertwined in ways that the visitors themselves could steer. 14 John Cage ’ s path developed somewhat similarly: following on from a formative encounter with Finnegans Wake in his youth, he set out to create a ‘ reading aid ’ , a scheme of finding the letters of Joyce ’ s name and arranging text passages underneath each other to reveal them in the middle of the lines vertically (as mesostics). Cage practiced this activity over many years, calling it Writing Through Finnegans Wake and Writing for the Second Time Through Finnegans Wake (1977). His Roaratorio: An Irish Circus on Finnegans Wake, on the other hand, involved contacting people from all the places mentioned in the book, gathering sound recordings from them, and thus forging a community that was activated and led not to see the Wake as an impenetrable thing for professors, but as a reason for fun (albeit educational and institutional). Cage ’ s New York circle included William Anastasi, whose response to Joyce, Alfred Jarry, and Marcel Duchamp amounts to hypertrophic research notes, produced, one can imagine, by reading group members; but the title, me inner man monophone: Jarry in Joyce (1993), reveals that the reader and researcher into this triangulation of creative practices is Anastasi alone. His artistic research is so detailed that it borders on an obsession and appears no longer academically viable: it belongs on the gallery wall (as an installation entirely surrounding the viewer), not in an academic article. Cage and Anastasi came together daily for years (partly in order for Cage to spend his time in ways other than drinking alcohol). Their conversations often spun around Joyce, but their activity was (however slightly) different from being a Wake reading group: they played chess. Dora García ’ s Inadequate was not unlike an FIU session, the widening ripples of Cage ’ s Joyce projects, or Anastasi ’ s notes creating a community of three intertwined creators/ researchers and their exegete. This is also how I understand the (otherwise strange) equivalence of formats: a formative, personal reading is, over the years, expanded into group work, conjured by Finnegans Wake, as performances, as well as performative acts, not just self-actualizing, but - as I will further explore - also instituting. Joyce apparently constructed through his late book not just the occurrence of personal epiphanies in some creative people but presented a tool kit for how others could construct epistemic advancement in the various contexts in which they found themselves. These are contexts judged as too positivist, even oppressive and in need of 281 The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University democratization. The tool may then appear as paradoxical: it is a book that programmatically makes everybody feel inadequate. When one then gets together with other necessarily inadequate people and engages with a canonical work that few read even at the highest levels of academic achievement, one is not interested in fixed knowledge and yet creates what no one person could: irreducibly complex and ambiguous meanings. What Umberto Eco was quoted as saying now resonates more fully: embracing imperfections as part of receiving an open artwork can provide a counter-weight to the destructive certainties of power, of oppressive regimes, wherever they are. 15 Taking such humbling reading experiences, first made in private, to the largest art events available (the Venice Biennial, documenta etc.) may, one can hope (but never predict), reach further individuals and change their understanding and practices of knowledge. To attempt to tackle this topic and remain with Western examples would obviously be flawed. Zbigniew Gostomski, a Polish artist born in 1932, in Pascal ’ s Triangle (1973), shows an international conceptual aesthetic but does what would have been atypical in the West: he quotes James Joyce ’ s Ulysses in the work. The book was passed around clandestinely in artistic circles in the Eastern Bloc. Artists like Gostomski recognized liberating literature and aimed to produce their own. 16 The message here is, interestingly, to point to ‘ normal ’ (and dirty) Eastern Bloc industry (the slack heap from mining), but (through Pascal ’ s triangle from mathematics and the Ulysses quote) to insist on networks. We are “ neither the first, nor last nor only or alone ” , it says in the work, echoing Joyce in a clear Central/ Eastern European voice. Some canonical texts were clearly identified as having a potentially liberating effect in a part of the world that felt isolated. Canonical status, far from being used to retain the dictatorial status quo, ensured a trans-culturally relevant discourse and could also function as critical, i. e. uncomfortable to the regime and (thus) liberating, but a relatively safe source due to its canonicity. 17 Gostomski ’ s work compares well to how Joseph Kosuth later used quotations of Beckett, Freud, and others, but it also has a sense of what Boris Groys was to term Romantic Conceptualism: one did not wish to cut all ties and instead claimed tradition for one ’ s own new - often dissident - interpretations. What artists read and wrote, in order to avoid hegemonic epistemology, understandably had to be indirect and poetic, i. e. allegorical in nature. Otherwise one would have left incriminating evidence. Citing the literary canon rather than non-fiction gave one more capacity to relate it to real experiences. To give another example for Joyce ’ s importance for theoryformation: Hélène Cixous considered the writer as having developed an écriture feminine. Such characterization of (some of) Joyce ’ s prose renders what I have called faithfully unfaithful responses more viable than illustrations or such serving relationships. 18 Joyce - or his alter ego Stephen Dedalus - famously wished not to serve. The networks (historically and geographically) that Gostomski ’ s work invokes are important for performance art. Behind the Iron Curtain, performance audiences were and are the bearers of the experience and the legacy of the artwork. They could - where allowed - travel, describe, and sometimes show photographs to broaden the circle of audience members, i. e. networks functioned as (or instead of) museums, or as stealth art venues. 19 Reading and interpreting together has been the hallmark of revolutionary, counterhegemonic movements from early Christianity onwards. The Irish hedge schools that didn ’ t just retain the Irish language illegally but ensured the survival of European classical learning (canonical Greek and Latin 282 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes texts) during British colonization ’ s Penal Laws are a relevant example, as Joyce can be considered an heir to that educational model. And Beuys ’ FIU has also been interpreted within that legacy. 20 To remain in Central Europe with another artistic case study, Kwiekulik (a couple whose surnames combine to read KwieKulik) chose as part of their practice deceptively familiar formats: letters of complaint 21 to officialdom and slogans such as Think Communism. KwieKulik ’ s steadfast protestation of socialism and appropriation of the red flag (without the hammer and sickle) were clearly what one would now call an overidentification strategy 22 - with reformist, democratic, i. e. oppositional intentions. The proclamations of being official, socialist, etc. had another purpose, too: making Western critics repeat them at face value. 23 Thus, the artists, embattled and isolated as they were, enjoyed relative safety in a system that could not easily denounce false loyalty. In KwieKulik ’ s performances, much attention is given to group activities, students, and teaching methods. KwieKulik ’ s stance led them to seek collaborations with other artists, exhibitions in their home (a room officially named Studio for Activities, Documentation and Propagation, PDDiU), where successive exhibitions accumulated as a ‘ horizontal archive ’ . 24 This functioned like a palimpsest, or akin to Schwitters ’ Merzbau: amassing work and evidence, but occluding what the current political situation may no longer allow, or only enable differently. Domestic exhibition and archiving projects, and especially teaching activities and performance in groups, have fluid boundaries. There is safety in numbers (and, as previously shown, in the canonicity of one ’ s points of reference): a known format that mixes actor and audience, single and cocreation can, indeed, become a stealth practice, depending on who is observing. How I understand stealth practice shares much with a more clearly developed theoretical tradition, the concept of minor literature, developed by Deleuze and Guattari around the work of Kafka: 25 de-territorialized as German-speaking literature in Prague, having political immediacy, and forging community. Joyce, Beckett, and other postcolonial Irish writers, of course, qualify for this also. KwieKulik ’ s, but also Beuys ’ , García ’ s and other artists ’ oeuvres, while not being literary, share a certain strategy of using large exhibitions, and known formats for subversive or minor ends. 26 What also has to play into any understanding of stealth is relative invisibility. Beuys called his drawings “ ultravisible ” : one has to work hard to see anything at all. Lowering the level of spectacle is part and parcel of much of that kind of practice. 27 The manner in which the Iron Curtain fell and the only very partial valorization, or indeed infantilization, 28 of those who made the peaceful revolution happen has left many artists and their first audiences disenchanted, as well as relatively uninformed about the potential (art-historical and/ or social) importance of what they created or witnessed. Much work that once had to be ephemeral (work as stealth practice), and as such won the fight against having to remain silent, is in danger of being lost. When we look at what there still is in the memories and belatedly growing archives, and apply what we have already found in the context of other artists, it is hard not to see a certain shared sensibility (often a group connection, too) between Joyce, his readers, and those who changed history, who were so extraordinarily far-reaching in the constituencies they brought together, humble and disciplined enough to manage to conduct a peaceful revolution in Europe. 29 If I may be permitted one last example: in 2014 I curated a small exhibition by a friend of Beuys, Royden Rabinowitch, whose 283 The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University Greased Cone (1965/ 2014), literally a rolled steel cone covered in industrial grease, I showed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, for the benefit of politicians there. The discussion was meaningful. It focused on local knowledge of working with rolled steel in shipbuilding, materiality, and social warmth, the abject and the role of accepting disgust as not just characteristic of the other, and the cone as a symbol of hierarchy. 30 I cannot know the outcome of my small effort at mediating art to politicians. What I can know, however is that the work, in Rabinowitch ’ s thinking is founded on Joyce ’ s literature. The Greased Cone, first conceived in 1965, is a sculptural address to Brancusi ’ s Portrait J. Joyce, 1928. The exhibition ’ s subtitle was: Artists ’ Solidarity at Times of Historical Change. I thus included (in a vitrine) a number of items pointing to instances of what I meant by that formulation. These ranged from the 18 th century to 1989, 1974 and the present day and were what in the present context could be called a ‘ diachronic reading group ’ : Friedrich Schiller ’ s Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man from 1794 (the context of the French Revolution), but also evidence of Beuys ’ interest in Northern Ireland, where he has had a strong legacy since visits in 1974. Beuys and Rabinowitch made a joint donation to the Muzeum Sztuki, Lodz, during Martial Law in Poland in 1981, a gesture of solidarity. That gift (represented by a catalogue) was exhibited prominently in Warsaw, in 1988/ 89, just at the moment when demonstrations were happening, when the semi-academic reading groups that had gathered in professors ’ living rooms for years, now went out into the streets. The Iron Curtain crumbled and fell. Did the presence of many Joycean works (Beuys had gathered much Irish material for Lodz) do anything to help? We cannot know, but we also cannot disprove it. In Belfast, I led a weekly reading and discussion group for students, artists, and colleagues, but not in the university with its need for security passes and module numbers, but in an art space ’ s café. 31 Rabinowitch ’ s Greased Cone from Belfast has since found a permanent home in the Van Abbemuseum, Eindhoven, where it awaits what might happen in the future. Further imaginable instances of artistic solidarity at times of historical change (similarly to the ones presented) depend on networks. Chantal Pontbriand asserts in relation to Dora García: perhaps it is only situations of being-inrelation ( ‘ networking ’ on the basis of affinities), like that shown in The Joycean Society, that allow for the emergence, the laying bare of the ethical dimension. The micro-communities [. . .] open a path toward other existences, toward other ways of thinking and seeing, too often ignored or even prevented by the powers in place. 32 At a moment in time when, in the US the National Endowment for the Humanities and the National Endowment for the Arts (the latter once co-directed by the Joycereader, artist, writer, perception scientist, art theorist, and institutional critic Brian O ’ Doherty) 33 are officially called ‘ waste ’ and are due to be closed; when in the UK and the Netherlands, art and humanities funding is shrinking by the minute; at this time, it is becoming apparent that the models not just for thinking differently but ‘ instituting otherwise ’ that have been developed by Joyce and those who have used him as their stepping stone are valuable. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, this is also when they are considered suspect. BAK have investigated models for ‘ non-Fascist living ’ and launched their Former West publication, initiated in tandem with the Van Abbemuseum in 2006, to look more closely at how the West has changed in the last 30 years. Arising from what has been said, my contribution to extend such a project (together with that of, for instance, Ines Weizman in architec- 284 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes tural history) 34 is to highlight the strategies developed by dissidents before 1989 - and suggest that what they did should be done now: engaging in the stealth activity of reading together, even reading Joyce together. 35 As the state of affairs behind the Iron Curtain has shown us, when something is feared and derided, it is also likely (and indirectly acknowledged) to be more effective than those in power wish to admit. Reading, discussing, practising, and thinking Finnegans Wake in art and education may yet lead to the victory of the nerds. 36 Notes 1 Maria Lind, “ The Triumph of the Nerds ” , in: Art Review (September 2014), http: / / artreview.com/ opinion/ september_2014_opinion_maria_lind/ [accessed 14 May 2021]. 2 Umberto Eco, Opera Aperta, without place 1962. 3 I have expanded these remarks on Eco and mistakes in Joyce, since the conference from which this publication arose in: Christa- Maria Lerm Hayes, “‘ His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery ’ : Towards an Indirect Social Efficacy of Joyce's Attitude to Mistakes - through (Beuys') Art Responding to Joyce ” , in: Emma-Louise Silva, Sam Slote and Dirk Van Hulle (eds), James Joyce and the Arts, Leiden 2020, pp. 40 - 54. 4 A sure sign of this - apart from Joyce ’ s works featuring in various hit lists of world literature - was the celebration in 2004 of the centenary of the day on which Ulysses, 1922, is set in Dublin, 16 June 1904. For the ReJoyce 100 festival, I curated the exhibition Joyce in Art at the Royal Hibernian Academy, Dublin. It was accompanied by: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, Joyce in Art: Visual Art Inspired by James Joyce, Dublin 2004 (downloadable at http: / / synergeticalab.com/ archive.html [accessed 14 May 2021]). 5 See: ibid., p. 94. An exception was: Helmut Bonheim, Joyce ’ s Benefictions. Berkeley/ Los Angeles 1964. A milestone in the re-appraisal of the politics of Joyce ’ s work was: Vincent J. Cheng, Joyce, Race, and Empire, Cambridge 1995. 6 Lerm Hayes, Joyce in Art, p. 90. 7 Martha C. Nussbaum, Not for Profit: Why Democracy Needs the Humanities, Princeton/ Oxford 2010. 8 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Literary Art Exhibitions and Artists ’ and Curators ’ Solidarity in Times of Historical Change ” , in: Zeszyty Artystyczne 35 (2020), pp. 205 - 216; Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Re-inventing the Literary Exhibition: Exhibiting (Dialogical and Subversive) Art on (James Joyce ’ s) Literature ” , in: Grace Lees-Maffei (ed.), Working Papers on Design 2, www.herts.ac. uk/ artdes1/ research/ papers/ wpdesign/ wpdvol2/ vol2.html [accessed June 2006]. 9 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, James Joyce als Inspirationsquelle für Joseph Beuys, Hildesheim/ Zurich/ New York 2001; Lerm Hayes, Joyce in Art; Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “‘ The Joyce Effect ’ : Joyce in the Visual Arts ” , in: Richard Hayes (ed.), A Companion to James Joyce, Malden/ Oxford 2007, pp. 318 - 340; Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “‘ I will re-create Finnegans Wake Anyway ’ , Beuys Reads Joyce ” , in: Nordic Journal of English Studies 10/ 1 (2018), issue: Visual Poetics, pp. 152 - 180, http: / / ojs.ub.gu.se/ ojs/ index.php/ njes/ index [accessed May 2021]. 10 For conceptual art ’ s part in reading performances: Nick Thurston, “ Publishing as a Praxis of Conceptualist Reading Performances, ” in: Journal of Writing in Creative Practice 6/ 3 (2013), pp. 421 - 429, http: / / www.rongwrong.org/ RWFWY [accessed 14 May 2021]. 11 For a consideration of García ’ s work with regard to artistic research, see: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Mad, Marginal, Minor (Artistic) Research ” , in: Chantal Pontbriand (ed), Dora García, Mad Marginal: Cahier #4, Berlin 2015, pp. 120 - 133. 12 Tom Holert (curator), Learning Laboratories, BAK, Utrecht, December 2016 - February 2017, https: / / archive.bakonline.org/ en/ Research/ Itineraries/ FutureVocabularies/ Themes/ InstitutingOtherwise/ Exhibitions/ 285 The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University LearningLaboratories [accessed 14 May 2021]. 13 Tom Holert, “ Artistic Research: Anatomy of an Ascent ” , in: Texte zur Kunst 82 (2011), pp. 38 - 63. See also: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Minor Literature in and of Artistic Research ” , in: Corina Caduff and Tan Wälchli (eds.), Artistic Research and Literature, Munich 2019, pp. 49 - 62, https: / / doi.org/ 10.30965/ 9783846763339 [accessed 14 May 2021]. 14 See Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Beuys ’ s Legacy in Artist-led University Projects ” , in: Tate Papers 31 (2019), https: / / www.tate.org. uk/ research/ publications/ tate-papers/ 31/ beuys-legacy-artist-led-university-projects [accessed 14 May 2021]. 15 I originally wrote the essay on mistakes already referred to for the 2016 Association of Global Art Historians ’ conference in Beijing, China, 18 September 2016. 16 See Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Living Archives: The Paradoxes of Art as Incriminating Evidence Behind the Iron Curtain ” , in: Simulacrum - Tijdschrift voor Kunst en Cultuur: Het Archief, 26/ 3 (2018), pp. 40 - 44. See also Lerm Hayes, Joyce in Art, p. 290. 17 But even quoting the Socialist greats, such as Karl Marx or Rosa Luxemburg, was not entirely safe: fictionality provided an additional, necessary safeguard to canonicity. 18 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “’ The Joyce Effect ’ : Joyce in the Visual Arts ” , in: Richard Brown (ed.), A Companion to James Joyce, Malden/ Oxford 2007, pp. 318 - 340. 19 See: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Notes on Activist Practices Behind the Iron Curtain: Liberation Theologies, Experimental Institutionalism, Expanded Art and Minor Literature ” , in: Nick Aikens, susan pui san lok and Sophie Orlando (eds), Conceptualism - Intersectional Readings, International Framings: Situating ‘ Black Artists & Modernism ’ in Europe, Eindhoven 2020, pp. 332 - 351; https: / / vanabbemuseum.nl/ en/ research/ resources/ articles/ conceptualism-intersectional-readings-international-framings/ [accessed 14 May 2021]. In this essay, I elaborate on the political aspects of reading canonical literature like Joyce ’ s behind the Iron Curtain: thoughts that I first developed here. 20 Ullrich Kockel, “ The Celtic Quest: Beuys as Hero and Hedge School Master ” , in: David Thistlewood (ed.), Joseph Beuys: Diverging Critiques, Liverpool 1995, pp.129 - 147. 21 Petition - complaint to the Ministry of Culture and Art, 1973, p. 437. It contains comments about the “ swindling ” PSP. Such an attitude of strength and claim gives way to explanations (or the Eagle Affair), in 1977, where allegations about having created something for specifically foreign consumption have to be refuted. Later, protestations of disinterestedness in fitting into Western art history and refutations of the naivety of thinking that Socialist Realism was still compulsory are added. Problems of making a living abound throughout. On page 439 it says: “ We want to pursue our academic careers - obtain PhDs ” . Research as an attitude was viable to artists working in a discursive manner anyway. That was not possible in all Eastern European countries or at all times. In East Germany, one had to prove allegiance with Marxist/ Leninist principles as part of a PhD exam. 22 BAVO (ed.), The Art of Over-Identification, Rotterdam 2007. 23 I thank Marga van Mechelen for sharing her experiences in visiting KwieKulik from the 1970s onwards. 24 Lukasz Rondula and Georg Schoellhammer, KwieKulik: Zofia Kulik, Przemyslaw Kwiek, 2012, p. 523. 25 Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, Kafka: Toward a Minor Literature (1975), translated by Dana Polan, Minneapolis 2006. 26 The state of affairs with regard to transferring a concept such as the ‘ minor ’ to visual art is more complex: Mieke Bleyen, Minor Photography: Connecting Deleuze and Guattari to Photography Theory, Leuven 2012. 27 I have elaborated on this in relation to Northern Irish performance art and its politics elsewhere - using Joyce and Beckett, of course: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Accepting Love and the Paradoxes of (Political) Art in Northern Ireland: Sandra Johnston ” , in: ZivotUmjetnosti: Ljubav/ Love 100 (2017), 286 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes pp.28 - 43, also at http: / / www.ipu.hr/ content/ zivot-umjetnosti/ ZU_100-2017_028- 043_Lerm-Hayes.pdf [accessed 14 May 2021] and: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “‘ Sometimes you need help from other people ’ s ghosts ’ : Alastair MacLennan ’ s multidisciplinary and ‘ instituting ’ practice as civil action ” , in: Sandra Johnston, Paula Blair and Cherie Driver (eds.), Actional Poetics - ASH SHE HE: The Performance Actuations of Alastair MacLennan, 1971 - 2018, Belfast/ Bristol 2021 (forthcoming). 28 See Ines Weizman, Architecture and the Paradox of Dissidence, London/ New York 2014. 29 The Amsterdam conference that led to this publication provided a valuable incentive to develop these thoughts further in some of the recent essays already quoted, but specifically in: Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, “ Notes on Activist Practices ” . I thank the organizers and editor for this very fruitful exchange. 30 E. g. in the passage: Ulysses ’ “ sexual explicitness and its insistent sexual focus can now be seen to have political significance. For, first of all, they are a linchpin on the project of restoring the reader to acceptance and love of the body, with all its surprises [. . .] a focus on the body ’ s universal needs is an essential step on the way to the repudiation of localism, therefore of ethnic hatred. [. . .] The novel suggests [. . .] that the root of hatred is not erotic need [. . .], rather, the refusal to accept erotic neediness and unpredictability as a fact of human life. Saying yes to sexuality is saying yes to all in life that defies control - to passivity and surprise, to being one part of a very chancy world. [. . .] This yes to humanity, Joyce suggests, is the essential basis for a sane political life, a life democratic. ” Martha C. Nussbaum, Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions, Cambridge 2008, p. 709. 31 For further detail and the context, see: Lerm Hayes, “‘ Sometimes you need help from other people ’ s ghosts ’” . 32 Chantal Pontbriand, “ An Arena for Liberating Politics ” , in: García, The Joycean Society, pp. 156 - 165. 33 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes, Brian O ’ Doherty/ Patrick Ireland: Word, Image and Institutional Critique, Amsterdam 2017. 34 Weizman, Architecture and Dissidence. 35 Maria Hlavajova and Simon Sheikh, Former West: Art and the Contemporary After 1989, Cambridge 2016. For the essay with which I responded to the publication when it came out and “ extended ” its remit somewhat and took a slightly different turn, see my “ Notes on Activist Practices Behind the Iron Curtain ” already referred to. 36 When making this suggestion at the conference from which this book has emerged, Knowles also had not as yet drawn a straight line from the literature of Joyce to the efforts of countering the malaise of universities under authoritarian capitalism. Sebastian D. G. Knowles, At Fault: Joyce and the Crisis of the Modern University, Gainsville et. al. 2018. I also found it rewarding to consider in this context the essay: “ Stephen/ Joyce, Joyce/ Haacke: Modernism and the Social Function of Art ” by Mark A. Wollaeger, in: ELH 62/ 3 (1995), pp. 691 - 707. Wollaeger writes: “ An accurate assessment of avantgarde potential requires that one step outside the Joycean labyrinth in order to undertake historically-conceived interdisciplinary work [. . .] Does the increasingly visual nature of culture and society ( ‘ Ineluctable modality of the visible ’ ) render literature more subversive yet less effective? Or more effective by virtue of its marginality? Second, if one ’ s concern is social value, the most important locus for these issues is the classroom, [. . .] the ways in which Joyce solicits modes of social reading that submit autonomy to a sense of inevitable embeddedness can only be a good thing, even if those readings remain bound by Joyce ’ s own logic. But if perspectives external to Joyce are to be opened, interdisciplinarity is invaluable in the classroom as well. [. . .] More broadly, encouraging students to understand texts as forms of cultural activity capable of performing cultural work rather than as isolated objects can help decompose the aesthetic enclosure so powerfully theorized by Kant in his Critique of Judgment, pp. 702 f. ” 287 The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “ Stealth Activities ” between Art and the University The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? Gabriele Brandstetter (Berlin) With the ‘ turn ’ of post-dramatic theatre and conceptual dance since the 1990s, the narration of history and the performance of stories became central in the practices and theory of theatre and dance. In this context, the format of the anecdote gained a key position for strategies in history, and narrating and dealing with the ‘ effect of the real ’ . I will ask how narratives in/ as performances work against the master narratives of social and economic hierarchies and of thought patterns of (neo-)colonialism and power relations. Theory of narration in historiography (H. White, S. Greenblatt) will be discussed, along with a reading of the performances of contemporary artists: Boris Charmatz, Rabih Mroué, and Mette Ingvartsen. What kind of knowledge do the fragments of (autobiographical) anecdotes provide - and how do performing artists practice and challenge ‘ historiography ’ ? In September 2015, as the number of refugees fleeing to Europe from the chaos in their own countries continued to rise, an image flashed round the world: It was the photo of the drowned Syrian boy, Aylan Kurdi cast up on the beach of the island of Lesbos. The image seemed to symbolize the deadly danger that cost the lives of thousands of migrants as they tried to cross the Mediterranean in unseaworthy vessels. In January 2016, the Chinese artist and dissident Ai Weiwei had himself photographed in the pose of Aylan Kurdi: Weiwei called this action a ‘ recreation of the image ’ a spectacular re-enactment. This tableau vivant of the dead was part of Weiwei ’ s engagement with human rights in the Western (! ) world and his work as a campaigner, critical of Europe ’ s refugee and asylum policy. Weiwei ’ s work took the form of a series of installations, such as the happening at Berlin ’ s Gendarmenmarkt in February 2016. This event involved Weiwei decorating the ancient Greek (Doric)-style pillars of the Concert House with the life jackets of refugees who had made it to the island of Lesbos. Reactions to these installations were mixed. While some praised Weiwei ’ s critical engagement, they were outnumbered by critics who felt he was cynically using the suffering of nameless refugees to market his own name. I should like to take this image and its ‘ re-creation ’ - the reenactment of the dead Syrian child by the body of the Chinese artist Weiwei, - as a starting point for seeking an answer to the questions: In whose name? What is re-presented by the ‘ re- ’ of this re-enactment? And what role is played by the body, the story, and the random images of memory? Has a wave of empathy been released by the photo of the dead child, a re-sonance of the ancient myth of the arrival of Odysseus on the island of the Phaiakians, when he was found and taken for dead on the beach by Nausicaa, only to be hospitably received afterwards? Would then the large body of Ai Weiwei re-producing the body of the boy on the beach symbolize a stranger ’ s need for hospitality? Or disqualify it? ‘ Who is afraid of representation? ’ This question (which I have borrowed from Rabih Mroué) will be a recurring theme in the Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 288 - 302. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0026 following remarks on the subjects of archives, re-enactment, and historiography. Contesting the Canon The status of sources is often referenced as a means of conveying an archive ‘ in transition ’ to an audience. “ Many Sources, Many Voices ” , 1 as Lena Hammergren points out in her reflections on “ source criticism ” 2 and “ sources as social constructions ” . 3 What documents, objects, events are found, what makes them representative and - as in the case of the photo of Aylan Kurdi - gives them iconic status? What is forgotten, suppressed, marginalized, and what is accidentally rediscovered, re-invented? In 1992, at the request of Elisabeth Schweeger, the film-maker Peter Greenaway curated an exhibition in Vienna entitled 100 Objects to Represent the World. 4 The exhibition, which was highly representative, was held to mark the 300th anniversary of the founding of the Vienna Academy. It was shown in two historic and symbolic spaces: in Vienna ’ s (Imperial) Hofburg and in former Habsburg service depots, two spaces with both political and theatrical dimensions. Greenaway borrowed the spaceship idea for the exhibition: “ The Americans sent a payload off into space to represent the world ” 5 as a temporary museum in which the things, ideas, conditions, materials, and bodies are included as exhibits. Greenaway attacked the idea of ‘ representation ’ both playfully and offensively: A museum, a gallery, a collection of artefacts assembled in one space, with one idea, one heading, from one curator - is a particular representation of the world. This one view mocks human endeavor by seeking to be totally representative and encyclopaedic - but brief. [. . .] It should leave nothing out - every material, every technique, every type of every type, every science, every art and every discipline, every construct, illusion, trick, and device we utilize to reflect our vanity and insecurity, and our disbelief that we are so cosmically irrelevant. 6 Greenaway ’ s 100 Objects represent a hybrid and impossible undertaking which - in this temporary archive - realizes the idea which Baudelaire identified as characteristic of the Modern Age: “ le transitoire, le fugitif, le contingent ” . 7 Thus Greenaway appeared as curator, author, indeed as creator with the power to decide what was representative and what was not. 8 A different approach was adopted 20 years later by Neil MacGregor who, as a curator and museum director, developed his project for a representative ‘ 100 Objects ’ by a collaborative selection process. MacGregor, who had been Director of the British Museum in London, published his A History of the World in 100 Objects, 9 in 2010. “ Telling history through things, ” he writes in his preface, “ is what museums are for. ” And he explains this complex undertaking is to breathe narrative life into the (! ) “ history of the world with 100 objects ” . This includes things, artefacts, objects of the most varied kind. From the earliest times to the 20th century, these objects from all parts of the world are supposed to tell us about their travels, changes of ownership via cultures, and time strata, relations between humans, and between them and their environment. Not texts, but things are supposed to stand in for those dimensions of cultural life in actions, exchange, negotiations and find expression in performative acts. However, these objects only ‘ speak ’ when their ‘ stories ’ - these complex interweavings and transitions - are (re)told. And this was what MacGregor had in mind when making his selection: a history in 100 objects that attaches importance to the fact that “ different peoples ” 10 and those whose voices have left no written records should be heard. But 289 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? what may be deemed ‘ representative ’ ? Mac- Gregor stresses that there can be no balanced selection, given the role of chance in oral history. Thus the contingent afterlife of things and the ‘ poetry of things ’ is also evident in meticulous historical and palaeographical research into the provenance of objects: What we need, according to Mac- Gregor, is “ a generous measure of imagination if we want to uncover an artefact ’ s previous life, if we approach it as generously, as poetically as possible in the hope it will yield up the knowledge it bears within it ” . 11 Media participate in different ways in the process of these appropriations and re-animations: The book, which documents with photos and texts the 100 selected objects from the British Museum, originated from a BBC radio series: but how can physical objects, which are invisible to radio audiences, be ‘ represented ’ orally/ auditorily? The listeners who could not see the things had to imagine them, and thus recreate them on the basis of what the historians told them: “ Each listener would make the object in question his own and build his own story around it ” 12 . This constructive and imaginative process of creating 100 objects is an indication of how canonical selection in such transmission processes is unlimited and transformed: a museum in transition! 13 André Malraux first propagated the concept of a ‘ musée imaginaire ’ in 1947 - a virtual museum, as a boundless, open and constantly metamorphosing collection of images. He pursued this further in a 42volume series entitled Universum der Kunst (Universe of Art): a media-supported delimitation of art history, which (while still in the media of books and photography) anticipates global (and yet contingent) availability on the World Wide Web, so that everyone can start his own image collection. The “ total museum for home use ” ? 14 Can this idea of assembling 100 objects to represent the world be applied to the world of dance? What shape would the tension between archive and repertoire (as Diana Taylor puts it in The Archive and the Repertoire) take? Are we witnessing the rise of a dual policy on the part of the archive? If we look at the collection of dance pieces which the Goethe Institute lists in its Internet portal, we find, on the one hand, active support for dance as an art form; on the other hand, the 50 dance pieces chosen to represent dance in Germany have a claim to canonical authority. Is there any escape from the policy of power and exclusion? Can one escape the ‘ mal d ’ archive ’ as Jacques Derrida defines this aporia? Boris Charmatz has been working on the difficult, indeed impossible, project of a ‘ museum in transition ’ and (non)representation. When the dancer and choreographer Boris Charmatz became the director of the “ Centre chorégraphique national de Rennes et de Bretagne ” in 2009, the first thing he did was to change its name from the ‘ Centre national ’ to the ‘ Musée de la danse ’ (the ‘ Dancing Museum ’ or ‘ Museum of Dance ’ ). He declared his aims in a manifesto. 15 His intention was - and still is - to replace the idea of the ‘ Centre ’ and the ‘ National ’ with a concept which does not involve a fixed space (like the middle or centre) nor a (national) identity with its corresponding cultural and political hierarchies. Instead he proclaims a ‘ living archive ’ , in which the idea of ‘ collection ’ , ‘ exhibition ’ , and what is traditionally understood by a ‘ dance archive ’ has been shifted. Charmatz talks of a “ wild approach ” 16 (in which one may discern an echo of Lévi-Strauss ’ s “ wild thinking ” ) and stresses the idea of a museum from the perspective of the “ supposed impermanence, immateriality, and non-collectability of dance ” . 17 Through projects such as 20 Dancers for the XX Century (since 2013) he has been asking: “ What can dance do for museums? ” By ‘ inventing ’ a new kind of museum through his projects, he creates 290 Gabriele Brandstetter transitions between exhibition, gallery, and performance rooms, which, as “ disruptive forces ” 18 , shift the boundaries between ‘ living art ’ and ‘ visual art ’ . Both the idea of the museum and that of choreography and dance are thus “ extended ” , according to Charmatz, to a space for experimental encounters between dancers and audiences; “ itinerant museums ” , like the “ Trojan horse ” 19 are supposed to extend their influence to institutions like the NCC (National Choreographic Center). It was not so much a desire to preserve the national legacy that inspired the ‘ Musée de la Danse ’ project as a desire for archaeological exploration: “ excavating gestures from the past, to be performed by a dancer ’ s body in the present. Metaphorically and quite literally, the collection for a museum of dance resides within and through dancers ’ bodies ” . 20 Here Charmatz is using a formula familiar in dance and performance discourse, namely that of the ‘ body as archive ’ . He develops his productions in collaboration with both dancers and curators. The same goes for the selection of the pieces, and the selection changes depending on the place, the space, and the history of the ‘ museum ’ / exhibition space. What kind of a museum is it if the display area - the venue - no longer has an architecture? No more halls of the White Cube, as in New York ’ s MoMA or London ’ s Tate, nor the foyers and auditoriums of theatres, such as the Palais Garnier, Paris - venues where Charmatz produced various versions of 20 Dancers for the XX Century. 21 What changes when the public space changes, when the public space and the bustling city are the ‘ Musée de la Danse ’ ? There has been much reflection in theatre and performance studies (against the theoretical background of philosophers such as Jacques Rancière, Jean-Luc Nancy, Alain Badiou, and Michel de Certeau) on projects involving dance and choreography of/ in the public or urban sphere and an art of the collective. 22 What would it mean if we were to reverse the perspective and inquire how transitions of the museum to other spaces and time regimes affect the idea of storage, archival practices, and canon-related concepts and hence what is representative in the history of dance and performance? Charmatz ’ s 20 Dancers for the XX Century transports quite deliberately the gestures of the representative and canonical; this can even be seen in the choice of title as well as in the allusion to Maurice Béjart ’ s challenging name for his company, Ballet of the 20th Century, which expressed his conviction that dance was the art form of the 20th century. To be sure, quoting such gestures after the post in postmodernism also means for Charmatz the right to violate and camouflage them while also being ironical at their expense. In Charmatz ’ s dance, highly varied styles and concepts of dance are displayed along a course which leads the audience through the rooms as in an exhibition: Richard Move personifies Martha Graham (in New York, MoMA); Ashley Chen shows excerpts from pieces by Merce Cunningham (Suite for Five, Rainforest); and Raphaëlle Delaunay from, inter alia, Pina Bausch ’ s Café Müller. We also see extracts from canonical works, such as Anna Pavlova ’ s Dying Swan (Le cygne), Nijinsky ’ s Petrushka, and Peggy Grelat-Dupont from Nijinsky ’ s Sacre du printemps. In Reinhild Hoffmann ’ s choreography of Heiner Müller ’ s Die Horatier at the Foreign Affairs Festival (Berlin 2014), Hoffmann played herself. 20 Dancers for the XX Century is performed by dancers who jointly select pieces which they rework as solos, which in turn are designated as ‘ Collective Gestures ’ . The selection procedures raise certain questions: How can solos, even if they are exhibited simultaneously as ‘ collected gestures ’ in separate rooms, tell us something representative about 20 th -century dance? What gaps 291 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? are revealed? And what happens (without the spectator being able to see it) when a transition takes place between different ‘ exhibition ’ rooms? With the exhibition of the project in Berlin 2014 as part of the Foreign Affairs Festival at the Soviet War Memorial in Treptow Park, the Museum was literally expanded and, in transition, turned into an urban space. What is changed by the context? Political history, immanent in the architecture of the monument, adds another layer of meaning to the solos. 23 The Treptower Park was created as a recreational area in the 1880s and in 1949 it turned into a cemetery for more than 3,000 Soviet soldiers, all of them killed during the battle in Berlin in the final weeks of the Second World War. How can we apply the gestures and iconographies embedded in this location to gestures of dance? How do monumental architecture and the history of bodies relate to each other when both narrate the history of the 20th century in their own specific way? 24 Is the utopian desire to let the museum go back to being what its name proclaimed - a museion, an institution for the Muses - still attainable? And how is there friction between the “ wild, expanded and shifting notion of art ” 25 that Charmatz aspires to, and the representative canon, which in spite of everything is continued by the 20 Dancers for the XX Century project? What do we learn of the history of violence, grief and death in this convergence of dancers and visitors to the Soviet War Memorial in Treptower Park? In full view of the monuments, cast in bronze and carved in stone, they affect the solos, the gestures of selected dance pieces from the 20 th century through their time difference and their symbolism. Is there any overlap, for example, between the body language of voguing, or of Michael Jackson re-enactments, or the repetition of Jérôme Bel ’ s Shirtology with the pathosformeln of struggle, of victory, of soldierly and military gestures? Perhaps, on the other hand, the freedom of strolling, of sauntering, and the casualness of the movements of the patrons with the dancers brought them some way back into the institution. The most exciting question - even if it can ’ t be precisely answered - may be: What strokes of good fortune, as a result of the invitation policy of curators and festivals (or that of Foreign Affairs; or in June, of the Dance Congress, Hanover), contribute to the programming of the latter (and how)? What will be displayed/ selected as ‘ representative ’ of the 20th century? Will this not create a feedback loop confirming the canonical authority of institutions (museums, opera houses, festivals)? If the intention was to move away from the idea of a ‘ centre ’ (Centre Chorégraphique), where was the fringe supposed to be? And what ‘ drift ’ from the margins would bring what ‘ transition ’ to the decision-making structures? The question of what traditions, institutions, and strategies influence the decisions of what is to be revived (re-performed/ reenacted) and what is to receive an old or new place in the archive of the performing arts, is closely linked to the politics of representation. The selection criteria have changed in comparison to the concept of the repertoire in the 19th or 20th century. Diana Taylor has subjected these issues to a close critical examination, and has thus not only reflected the discourse but influenced it. 26 But even if today - in casting Charmatz ’ s 20 Dancers for the XX Century for instance - the selection of pieces and dancers would naturally take account of gender, queerness, cultural diversity, and inclusion of non-mainstream pieces, precisely this ‘ correct ’ policy of the representative is - paradoxical though it may seem - an expression of a certain theoretical, Western-flavoured discourse on the postmodern/ postcolonial problems of inclusion or exclusion in the archive of the dominant 292 Gabriele Brandstetter culture. It is Derrida ’ s “ mal d ’ archive ” 27 . There is no escaping these aporia - i. e. the power and authority of archive and canon creation and the simultaneous movement of suppressions and revisionisms. 28 Considering these aporia, the question keeps arising: ‘ Who is afraid of representation? ’ In view of the spread of globalization to the sphere of performance cultures, the demand for a national (! ) cultural legacy has become strangely ambiguous. On the one hand, tending the canon continues to be relevant to cultural policy - e. g. France has the ‘ Centre national de Chorégraphie ’ and Germany the ‘ Tanz-Kulturfonds Erbe ’ or the programme of the Goethe Institute. On the other hand, the practice of the ‘ re- ’ sets the research and re-enactments of historical works against the ‘ canon ’ , or representational programme. Thus, a theoretical and historiographical critical ‘ reading ’ of such processes would have to be able to reveal such tensions and micro-movements of the ‘ transition ’ between archive and embodiment in a ‘ close reading ’ . This is where we see interweavings, new entanglements and also breaches between otherness - historical, cultural, and sexual - and clichés of identity. For example, the re-construction of Mary Wigman ’ s dance cycle Schwingende Landschaft/ Shifting Landscape, 1929, by Fabian Barba (2009) is an amalgam, or rather an assemblage, of various modes and codes of a process of re-doing, re-presenting, reembodying; a performance which these practices and transversals of the ‘ re- ’ implicitly and explicitly reflected (as Christel Stalpaert has shown in her article “ Re-enacting Modernity ” ). 29 Barba comes from Ecuador, where he trained as a dancer (Modern Dance Ballet, and practice in the tradition of those expressive dancers who emigrated to Latin America). He did a second training course at P. A. R. T.S., in Brussels - a course that combined contemporary practices, release techniques, and the theory of the ‘ reflective dancer ’ . With this mix of different cultural and historical styles of movement he embodies, as a male dancer, the solos of Mary Wigman on the basis of prints which are documented in the archive by photos, texts, and (in some cases) film. An archive persona of the dance icon ‘ Wigman ’ (and her dances of the ‘ shifting landscape ’ widely regarded as ‘ feminine ’ ) is re-presented here in a new form, like a lost legacy that is only restored to its rightful owner via another physical culture (in more ways than one) - a “ Re-enactment in Perpetual Modulation ” . 30 Talk of the body as an archive has been an element of discourse in the realm of dance for some time now. Only the emphasis varies depending on whether dancers are using this metaphor or theoreticians are discussing it. In 2004, the dancer Koffi Kôkô said in an interview: “ The body is a library ” . 31 He took this idea from cultures of memory and oral tradition in Africa - even in the media age - and pointed out that the task facing contemporary dance is to take concrete decisions on “ how to deal with the library the body has stored ” 32 . However, what this ‘ library ’ , this archive of the body specifically consists of is difficult to define. It is not so much the content as the access routes to this physical ‘ storage ’ and the possibilities of transmission that are experienced and addressed by dancers. Martin Nachbar distinguishes between ‘ archive ’ and ‘ storehouse ’ in his commentaries on his re-enactment (redoing) of Dore Hoyer ’ s Afectos Humanos (1965) entitled Urheben/ Aufheben (2008). The body archive, according to Nachbar in conversation with myself and other students, is the dimension of active knowledge which enables us to call up what has been learned. The ‘ storehouse ’ , on the other hand, contains - in no particular order - the wide variety of unconscious habits of movement: “ The ar- 293 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? chive cannot exist without remembering, repeating and also differentiating the body ” . 33 Here Nachbar draws upon the philosophy of Gilles Deleuze. 34 Deleuze ’ s thinking is also the central theoretical reference in André Lepecki ’ s article “ The Body as Archive: Will to Re-Enact and the Afterlives of Dances ” . 35 Lepecki discusses the basic questions of the debate about re-enactment in dance, between archive and act(ing), with reference to Foucault ’ s The Archaeology of Knowledge (1972) and Deleuzian thoughts of reconstruction as re-activation; creating “ compossibles ” and “ incompossibles ” [. . .] to re-define what is understood by “ archiving ” and what is understood by “ re-enacting ” . And Lepecki carries his thesis so far as to make archive and body identical: “ The body is archive and archive is body ” . 36 While the theoretical discourse considers questions of temporality, processes of remembering and forgetting, media for storage and transmission, and aspects of irreproducibility, dancers and choreographers, in their specific and individual research, often ask how this ‘ archive ’ should be composed, and how and why transmissions should take place. Deborah Hay comes to a completely different conclusion to the above-mentioned theories on the ‘ body as archive ’ : “ My body, the archive, will not be archived. ” 37 She relates how, on the occasion of a dance commissioned by Ralph Lemon for a project at the New York Museum of Modern Art (Blues, 2012), she gave instructions to the 22 dancers in writing - in the form of emails and feedback - in the belief that such a form of transmission was possible. However, it was not satisfactory, as the text and the dialogues only came alive through the physical practice and the different embodiments of each of the dancers. Hay remembers, “‘ Blues ’ was a bittersweet reminder that there is no method to convey my work because my work is practice. That is all. It is a practice for the choreographer, the dancer and the audience ” 38 . There are no general rules or methods for the transition between the museum and the body archive. A historiography of these trends and turns of re-enactments and re-doings would have to reflect such differentiations between ways of working and shifts of transmission. And that would mean choosing the close-up perspective, the microperspective. Generalizations lead to ideology - such as ‘ the body as archive ’ . Nevertheless, is not the entire ‘ archival turn ’ - by which I mean the trend that began in the 1990s (e. g. with Marina Abramovi č’ s The Biography, 1999) characterized by ‘ re ’ words such as repetition, reconstruction (of historically informed music or dance practices), creative or deconstructive re-enactments, and the many ‘ re ’ words: (re-play, redoing, re-making, etc.). Was this discourse movement reacting to delimitations of the postmodern, post-postmodern, and the effects of post-migration? Or is it seeking an answer to these de-limitations? Has a search partly in the gap between ‘ historical ’ , ‘ proprietorial ’ , and the multiple medial practices of appropriation and transference made those particular boundaries and identities obsolete? Back in 1989, in his pioneering article “ Repeatability, Reconstruction and Beyond, ” 39 Mark Franko pointed out that the reconstruction of a dance piece, even if sources and documents have been well preserved in the archive, is a ‘ reinvention ’ up to a point. This process contains a study and analysis of sources which ultimately does not end up as a reproduction (or ‘ repetition ’ ) of a performance “ up to a point ” , but a “ creation ” which “ actively rethinks historical sources. ” 40 Considering the fragmentary nature of dance/ theatre history and the “ deep storage ” 41 of the archive, how can we imagine the “ Museum as Art Practice ” 42 , as Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblettsuggests? This means recognizing that art itself is a 294 Gabriele Brandstetter form of re-search and that, conversely, science is an art, 43 a form of “ choreographing history ” 44 , as Susan Foster has shown. This also means, above all, reading historiographical traditions against the grain, to confront them with a counter-history. Are not Western perspectives, traditions, documents (sources), and theories dominant in the greater part of performances and the selection of works and discourses on reenactment and performative re-appropriation of the cultural legacy? Who is afraid of Representation? 45 is the title of a performance by the Lebanese artist Rabih Mroué. It is the performance of an act of stocktaking that also takes stock of performance art: a stocktaking of the most representative works of Western (European-American) body art (performances by artists whose works involve self-inflicted bodily injuries). In Mroué ’ s performance two series of data are confronted with annals of historiography, whereby the order of the representations is not fixed, but determined on the basis of a game of chance. Chance is a player in this performance. Both series of events (performance and history) are reports on pain, physical violence, and wounds. The female performer Lina Saneh recounts, in the first person and in laconic, encyclopaedic diction, the self-inflicted wounds of her art. Between them steps Rabih Mroué. He “ represents ” the spree killer Hassan Ma ’ moun, who has shot dead eight of his colleagues: Lina, what is your name? My name is Chris Burden. And you, what ’ s yours, Rabih? Me? My name is Hassan. Hassan Ma ’ moun. Actually, I am the one who shot all these people. And how about you? I only shot my arm. 46 The question of the “ simultaneity of the non-simultaneous ” 47 is directed by Mroué at the history of violence in the 1970s. War and terror run parallel to the monologues of performance artists of both sexes and their painful and cruel physical experiments in their struggle for individuality. Mroué asks why it is well-nigh impossible to imagine, in today ’ s Middle East, the body art that was so popular in the 1960s and 1970s. “ It is a wellknown fact that the religious communities run the political and public institutions in Lebanon, strangling any attempt to build a state based on the rule of law. Could this be the reason for the absence of Body Art in that region? ” 48 The dramaturgy of Mroué ’ s piece however, does not aim to re-enact body-art performances, nor to re-construct the terror of the killing spree. The performance runs more in the mode of the ‘ re ’ arts. The events, the acts of cruelty, are not embodied as a “ theatre of cruelty ” , 49 but are ‘ re-ported ’ from sources and documents in the archives. Lina Saneh reports with the aid of multiple media, language, text projections, and projected body tableaus, on the self-inflicted injuries of artists such as Chris Burden, Marina Abramovi č , Gina Pane, and Orlan. Rabih Mroué quotes, in the first person, the course of the violent act of Hassan Ma ’ moun, as in a body performance, while Saneh behind the screen marks the positions of the dead bodies. Their outlines then remain fixed on the screen like a police sketch. The sober report conveys the shock of the violent deed more vividly than any re-enacting or embodiment: Rabih: I shot Marc with nine bullets in his chest and hips and back . . . they entered him from behind, came out the front, hit the wall . . . he died. Sonia: Several bullets . . . one of them in the head, leading to the fracture and pulverization of the skull, and a leakage of brain matter. I used exploding bullets. She died. 50 Between these narratives, brief reports detailing events from Lebanese history, involving war and terror, have been inserted. 295 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? These montages and juxtapositions question the legitimacy of art, of body art as performance, and of the ‘ Self ’ . They also point to the limits of a policy of representation in the face of violence and terror; as Rustom Bharucha argues: “ Dramaturgically, these juxtapositions concretize the infinitesimal limits of different kinds of representations ” . 51 Mroué ’ s performance is a challenge for the spectator, as emotion and unfeelingness confront each other. His performance is also a challenge for historiography. In the confrontation of a political history of religiously motivated violence in the Middle East and the self-inflicted wounds of body art, the perspectives shift to the narrative of performance historiography, and of dealing with documents and their contexts. What events are relevant, worthy of a re-presentation? And how does a store of sources move “ into transition ” if the “ space of coincidence, accident, and incident ” - instead of an ordering of the factual - opens up situations of “ unpredictability ” ? 52 On the Margins of History - The Function of Anecdote The position of the coincidence between event and documentation, and between the selection of what is worth preserving and the canon is also of great relevance for the practice and theory of historiography. Reinhart Koselleck has described coincidence as a “ motivation rest ” . 53 It marks, so to speak, the blind spot and the openness between fact and fiction in the narrative of historiography. A historiography that includes this transformativity of the ‘ material ’ and reflects the contingency of the processes will necessarily end up at the controls governing the interactions between art, science and society - a dynamic which, in the terminology of ‘ New Historicism ’ , is known as the “ circulation of social energies ” : 54 How does one relate the history of such processes? How does one relate the transfusions between the ephemeral and precarious status of ‘ objects ’ , which have been consigned to oblivion and which ‘ ruin ’ themselves as ‘ documents ’ , and an archive, a magazine, a fund, that under certain circumstances transforms itself? In a traditional chronological history - as in art or performance history - such processes cannot be meaningfully consolidated. By telling ‘ history ’ as representative history, one misses the obstinate peculiarities of the things that have been left out - the transfusions between object, document, source, and restitution in a story. What if it were a story of relics, which are not consistent with a coherent view of history (in the sense of the historical concept of a “ collective singular ” , after Koselleck), 55 but one that had to be observed from the edges? In such transitions between social processes and the subsequent construction (invention) of a story from the events and relics, the anecdote plays an outstanding role. This little tale, (a form of “ nanophilology ” 56 ) becomes a transmitter and catalyst to those restructurings of events, documents, historical narratives, and their transference of “ social energies ” 57 (i. e. what Stephen Greenblatt calls “ cultural poetics ” ). Anecdotes are the ‘ petites histoires ’ , so to speak, the ‘ spot ’ , the blemish, the breach in the history, in contrast to the ‘ grand récit ’ of an integrative, progressive historiography which knows where it is going. 58 Greenblatt, in his later reflections, stressed the relevance of the anecdote, with reference to Joel Fineman, who in his ground-breaking essay “ The History of the Anecdote: Fiction and Fiction ” 59 presented a subtle theory of deconstructive historiography. Fineman described the anecdote as the “ narration of a singular event ” , 60 as a “ historem ” , 61 the history as a whole ( “ the whole and the rim ” 62 ). Punctuated: a “ double intersection, the formal play 296 Gabriele Brandstetter of anecdotal hole and whole, an ongoing anecdotal dilation and contraction of the entrance to history ” 63 - and therein consisting of “ the aporetic operation of anecdotal form ” . 64 This form and function make the anecdote, whose etymological meaning is the unpublished or (not yet published), 65 into a twin pillar of coincidence and the periphery: “ If anecdotes on the one hand record the peculiarity of the fortuitous - and [. . .] and have closer connections to the periphery than with [. . .] the wearisome average - they will on the other hand be told as representative anecdotes [. . .] ” , 66 i. e. they mediate between the “ blind sequence of limited moments and a comprehensive strategy ” 67 of narration. They are plucked out in passing from the bustle of experience and receive a certain form. This form is on the one hand sufficiently provisional for the chance nature of the anecdote to be still recognizable - otherwise we would describe it as weightier and more pompous than ‘ history ’ (in the singular) - but on the other hand so snappy that one can endlessly repeat it. 68 Not only the chance aspect, the view ‘ from the periphery ’ , but also the tendency of the anecdote to collect and/ or discuss ‘ discards ’ , ‘ rejects ’ , or marginalia of the ‘ grands récits ’ , 69 make it a subversive element of ‘ counter-history ’ . 70 Thus dealing with the anecdotal becomes a method of tracking down “ whatever is thrown out of official history, the ‘ other ’ of power, and the means by which it was discarded ” . 71 Is it this glimpse of that which has been driven to the fringes of the official historiography, the discarded, the newly gathered up, following the anek-doton through the back streets of history that produces the effect of the real (as Fineman says)? 72 In what way have such transfusions (and Greenblatt ’ s circulations of energies) had any effects on that process and those historical replies, which have been produced in dance with the ‘ archival turn ’ of recent years? 73 The transfusions, or “ negotiations ” 74 alternate between archive, relics (objects and documents), and various ‘ stagings ’ in showrooms. Like Greenblatt, we could ask what negotiations, omissions, resonances, and energy circulations take place here. And whether, and in what way, the chance nature of the anecdote and/ or the anecdotal, play a part in such productions. From the wide range of possible examples, I choose extracts, by way of example, from the ‘ exhibition ’ 69 Positions by Mette Ingvartsen. 75 I wonder how she will present in this play those various historical events which in the performance installation take up so many time scales. Ingvartsen leads the visitors through the performance, which in a spatial and sequential sense is laid out like an exhibition, a guided tour through a selection of stations and events of performance art, which are represented by documents from various media (texts, photos, videos). This selection follows a given structure - a matrix of selection. The emphasis is on group activities that feature nakedness and sexuality. The figure of ‘ 69 ’ refers to the year, so to speak, as a cross-section 76 of the performances dating from that year 1969, or the 1960s liberation movement in general. In this context, the legendary performance of Dionysus in 69 by Richard Schechner was quoted and - symbolically - the 69 sexual position. For this historical time frame, where documents and ‘ keywords ’ configure a kind of ‘ dual emplacement ’ , an exhibition set with partition walls and video screens has been moved into the theatre. The audience moves within this marked-out space, consisting of a stage and a temporary Museum of Performance History. It is history in the sense of historical retrospect (regarding history/ showroom of history) and in the sense of a story, an oral history in the here and now. 297 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? Both as a guided tour and as a story, the performance is divided into three parts. In the first part, Ingvartsen leads her visitors through the selection from the history of performance art that she researched for this installation. As she does so, she recapitulates, relates, and comments on the ideas and actions and their contexts: the themes of sexual liberation, the anti-war movement and the anti-capitalism of the 1960s. While talking, she quotes from documentary letters, which are displayed in a glass case nearby; she refers to Carolee Schneeman ’ s Meat Joy, speaking of her correspondence with the artist and the latter ’ s suggestion of a re-enactment in the form of an anecdote. The visitors are confronted with what is, for the moment, an impossible position of having to decide whether this story is fact or fiction. Another method is used to transfer the disrobing scene from Anna Halprin ’ s Parades and Changes 77 . At the time the scene caused a scandal, nudity on the stage was an affront, and the presentation by Halprin of her idea of an ‘ action ’ , of ‘ doing something ’ , in which nothing more than the slow-motion act of dressing and undressing while maintaining constant eye contact with the public was repeated three times, was provocative precisely because no ‘ acting ’ was involved, just mere ‘ actions ’ . Ingvartsen ’ s transference to the context of her Exhibition/ Installation retained the basic operations and structures of this scene, but she minimized it, as it were, ‘ anecdotally ’ ; perhaps she succeeded precisely because she managed to create a moment of alienation, while at the same time capturing the vibration/ resonance of the historical event, not with a group of performers, but with a disrobing Solo. Ingvartsen herself slowly sheds her garments. Because the spectators are not viewing the stage from afar but are standing cheek by jowl in the same room and are sharing it with Ingvartsen, the feeling of exposure to alien eyes is more intense. Nakedness and the naked body appear among the clad both in the way in which Ingvartsen uses eye contact, directly and intensively, with the spectator (whose compliance she commands) and in action as she takes off her clothes, whereupon she immediately repeats the action - as the ‘ anek-doton ’ (the un-published). 78 Not Ingvartsen ’ s nakedness, but the ‘ stripping naked ’ (of all) is what is going on in this ‘ intermediate state ’ . The framework, the setting, and the physical transference of the tale interact to create what Fineman has called the ‘ effect of the real ’ , the conjuring up of proof of the historical event, its evidential value, and materiality. Is the fragmentary nature of performance history and its re-enactments justly conspicuous for that vein, the (apparent) selection of coincidences of the 69 Positions Ingvartsen, in the totality of this work, does precisely what historiography as narrative has done since time immemorial; namely, telling history in a way that has a beginning, a middle and an end - a whole, as defined by Aristotle in his Poetics (although it also notes the artificiality of the performance archive). In the second part of her performance, Ingvartsen goes from the performance history of the 1960s to the present. She talks about herself and shows excerpts from her own performance history: a reenactment, a transposition and documentation (narrative, performed nude) of pieces she has been producing since 2005. Finally, in the third part, she talks about future sexual practices: She talks about and quotes from Beatriz Preciado ’ s cult book Testo Junkie (2013) and translates it into theatre practice; she looks forward to sexuality in the age of the ‘ post-human ’ , in which objects, things (a lamp, a bulb, a chair) can become an object of desire and ‘ partner ’ in the sexual act. Now that we have reached an apparently coherent history of performance and sexu- 298 Gabriele Brandstetter ality, is this the signal for the broken-down, in-coherent and rupture-ridden principle of the anecdotal to return? Traces that lose themselves, moments that flare up only to fade away leaving unanswered questions behind, after the mending of the link between archive and ‘ now ’ , after the canon and its rewrite, and after relics of this performance, whose story and history crumble into fragments. If artists (and scientists) - even now - are experts at quoting, appropriating and plundering archives, storerooms and funds: how will the remnants and fare be processed in renewed, re-appropriated contexts? This is an open question, which in various ways affects materialities and their uses - until the last remnants and abandoned relics are all washed away. Let us conclude with the question we raised at the beginning: In what way is the work of artists in the performing arts a challenge for historiography? Do the structures of a ‘ doing history ’ , which are produced by artists in dance and performance, have an influence on critical historiography? If so, every archival turn and museum in transit would find the prospect of a move from the centre to the outskirts more necessary than ever: the search for accommodation and temporary shelters. The ‘ documents ’ that are washed up here call for a re-vision of conventions in the relation and ‘ doing of history ’ . Among the things that are important today ‘ to represent the world ’ , we might include a piece of driftwood, a piece of wood from a ship that transported refugees across the Mediterranean. This piece of wood represents an art project, a transfer that has made possible a re-construction out of the fragmentary accounts of refugees. Under the name of the ‘ Cucula ’ project in Berlin, refugees from Africa are working on furniture design and other handicrafts (such as cabinet-making and design) while not forgetting their stories of origin and flight. Could this not serve as a social model - “ culturally poetic ” (in the Greenblatt sense) - directed against forgetting and against discourse for its own sake, against the self-restoration of institutions and policies of the so-called ‘ Old World ’ ? Performativity of historiography would then mean a restructuring of the categories of narration and the evaluation of the canon. Notes 1 Lena Hammergren, “ Many Sources, Many Voices ” , in: Alexandra Carter (ed.), Rethinking Dance History: A Reader, London et al. 2004, pp. 20 - 31. 2 Ibid., p. 20. 3 Ibid., p. 22. 4 Cf. Peter Greenaway, A History of the World in 100 Objects, Stuttgart 1992. 5 Ibid., “ Introduction ” (with unnumbered pages). 6 Ibid. 7 Cf. Charles Baudelaire, Le Peintre de la vie moderne, Œ uvres complètes, pub. by Y. G. le Dantec, Paris 1954, p. 892. 8 Five years later, in 1997, Peter Greenaway produced a second version of A History of the World in 100 Objects, this time as a theatrical version. In July 1997, first in Salzburg and then in numerous international theatres, he displayed the 100 objects in a new setting as a ‘ Prop Opera ’ , in which the objects were no longer shown transitively in an exhibition, but embedded in a narrative, accompanied by the soundtrack of Jean- Baptiste Barriere (engineered at IRCAM, Paris), composed by Kaija Saarinho. 9 Neil MacGregor, A History of the World in 100 Objects, London 2010 (German title: Eine Geschichte der Welt in 100 Objekten, Munich 2011). 10 Ibid., p. 18. 11 Ibid., p. 15. 12 Ibid., p. 12. 13 At the same time, of course, the 100 objects were shown visually on the Museum ’ s web- 299 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? site. They were also published later by Mac- Gregor in book form. 14 Cf. Werner Grasskamp, André Malraux und das imaginäre Museum. Die Weltkunst im Salon, Munich 2014, pp. 78 - 80. 15 For the English version, printed in Dance Research Journal, cf.: Boris Charmatz, “ Manifesto ” , in: Dance Research Journal 46/ 3 (December 2014), pp. 45 - 49. 16 Cf. Interview: “ Boris Charmatz and Ana Janevski ” , ed. by Leora Morinis (MoMA 2013), see https: / / www.moma.org/ momao rg/ shared/ pdfs/ docs/ calendar/ charmatz-jane vski-inteview.pdf, pp. 1 - 5, here: p. 4 [accessed 14 May 2021]. 17 Cf. “ Interview with Boris Charmatz ” , in: Dance Research Journal 46/ 3 (December 2014), pp. 49 - 52, here: p. 50. 18 Ibid., p. 51. 19 Ibid., p. 47. 20 Cf. Interview: “ Boris Charmatz and Ana Janevski ” , p. 4. 21 Boris Charmatz, 20 Dancers for the XX Century, Museum of Modern Art, New York 2013; Palais Garnier, Paris 2013; Treptower Park, Berlin 2014; Tate Gallery, London 2015. 22 Cf. inter alia: Kai van Eikels, Die Kunst des Kollektiven. Performance zwischen Theater, Politik und Sozio-Ökonomie, Paderborn 2013. 23 Cf. Gabriele Brandstetter, Stefan Troebst and Barbara Gronau: “ Choreopolitics: Gestures of History, Gestures of Dance ” , in: Barbara Gronau, Matthias von Hartz and Carolin Hochleiter (eds.): How to Frame. On the Threshold of Performing and Visual Arts, Berlin 2016, pp. 142 - 149. 24 Ibid., p. 143. 25 Cf. Charmatz, Interview, MoMA 2013, p. 5. 26 Diana Taylor, The Archive and the Repertoire. Performing Cultural Memory in the Americas, Durham/ London 2003. 27 Cf. Jacques Derrida, Mal d ’ Archive, Paris 1995. 28 Cf. Michel Foucault, who examines the problem of the (historical) differentness of what ‘ archive ’ (in the singular) theoretically means in his study L ’ archéologie du savoir: “ Thus the analysis of the archive comprises a privileged area which is both close to us, but different from our everyday lives, it is the edge of the time that surrounds our present, towers over it and points at it in its differentness, it is what limits us from outside ourselves ” . Michel Foucault, Archäologie des Wissens, Frankfurt a. M. 1973, p. 189. 29 Cf. Christel Stalpaert, “ Re-enacting Modernity: Fabian Barbas ‘ A Mary Wigman Dance Evening ’ (2009) ” , in: Dance Research Journal 43/ 1 (Summer 2011), pp. 90 - 95. 30 Ibid., p. 94. 31 Johannes Odenthal, “‘ The Body is a Library ’ - Conversation with Koffi Kôkô ” , in: The Third Body. Das Haus der Kulturen der Welt und die Performing Arts, Berlin 2004, pp. 49 - 52. 32 Ibid., p. 50. 33 Martin Nachbar, “ Training Remembering ” , in: Dance Research Journal 44/ 2 (Winter 2012), pp. 5 - 13, here: p. 11. 34 Martin Nachbar, “ When I remember something, I don ’ t bring something back from the past to the present, but I contract and actualize it through myself and my senses (Deleuze 1988) ” . Ibid., p. 11 [Deleuze, Bergsonism, Ort 1988]. 35 André Lepecki, “ The Body as Archive: Will to Re-Enact and the Afterlives of Dances ” , in: Dance Research Journal 42/ 2 (Winter 2010), pp. 28 - 48. 36 Ibid., p. 31. 37 Deborah Hay, “ My Body, the Archive ” , in: id., Using the Sky. A Dance, London/ New York 2015, pp. 124 - 127, here: p. 127. 38 Ibid., p. 126. 39 Mark Franko, “ Repeatability, Reconstruction and Beyond ” , in: Theatre Journal 41/ 1 (1989), pp. 56 - 74. 40 Ibid. p. 60. 41 Cf. Ingrid Schaffner (ed.), Deep Storage. Arsenal der Erinnerung. Sammeln, Speichern, Archivieren in der Kunst, Exhibition Catalogue, Munich 1997. 42 Cf. Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, “ Refugium für Utopien? Das Museum - Einleitung ” , in: Jörn Reisen, Michael Fahr and Annelei Ramsbrock (eds.), Die Unruhe der Kultur. Potentiale des Utopischen, Weilerswist 2004, pp. 187 - 297; for the English ver- 300 Gabriele Brandstetter sion of Kirshblatt-Gimblett ’ s text, see: https: / / www.nyu.edu/ classes/ bkg/ web/ museutopia.pdf [accessed 14 May 2021]. 43 Cf. Gabriele Brandstetter, “ Aufführung und Aufzeichnung - Kunst der Wissenschaft? ” , in: Erika Fischer-Lichte, Bettina Brandl-Risi and Jens Roselt (eds.), Kunst der Aufführung - Aufführung der Kunst, Berlin 2004, pp. 40 - 50. Quod vide Susan Foster: Choreographing history, Bloomington/ Indianapolis 1995. 44 Ibid. 45 Performance seen by me, 24. 02. 2005, Hebbel Theater, Berlin. 46 Quotation from unpublished typescript by Rabih Mroué. 47 Reinhart Koselleck, “ Zum Verhältnis von Vergangenheit und Geschichte in der neueren Geschichte ” , in: id., Vergangene Zukunft. Zur Semantik geschichtlicher Zeiten. Frankfurt a. M. 1989, pp. 17 - 105. 48 Typescript of the text of the performance, ibid., pp. 1 - 2. 49 Antonin Artaud, “ Le Théâtre de la Cruauté ” , in: id., Œ uvres complètes, Paris 1978, pp. 86 - 96, here: p. 86. 50 Typescript, ibid., unnumbered page. 51 Rustom Bharucha, Terror and Performance, London/ New York 2014, p. 164. 52 Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, “ Refugium für Utopien? “ , p. 195. 53 Cf. Reinhart Koselleck, “ Der Zufall als Motivationsrest in der Geschichtsschreibung ” , in: id., Vergangene Zukunft. Zur Semantik geschichtlicher Zeiten, Frankfurt a. M. 1989, pp. 158 - 175. 54 Cf. Stephen Greenblatt, Wunderbare Besitztümer. Die Erfindung des Fremden: Reisende und Entdecker, Berlin 1994. 55 In his reflections on the theory of historiography, “‘ Erfahrungsraum ’ und ‘ Erwartungshorizont ’” , Koselleck stresses the artificiality of documents and tradition. Cf. Reinhart Koselleck, “‘ Erfahrungsraum ’ und ‘ Erwartungshorizont ’ - zwei historische Kategorien ” , in: id., Vergangene Zukunft. Zur Semantik geschichtlicher Zeiten, Frankfurt a. M. 1989, pp. 349 - 375. He speaks of remnants of a past that are only turned into sources by the work of the historian. (ibid., p. 349) Eric Hobsbawm is even more scathing about the artificiality of tradition in that he speaks of the “ Invention of Tradition ” . Cf. Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger, The Invention of Tradition, Cambridge 1983, pp. 1 - 15. 56 Cf. Ottmar Ette (ed.), Nanophilologie. Literarische Kurz- und Kürzestformen in der Romania, Tübingen 2008. 57 Cf. Greenblatt, Wunderbare Besitztümer, p. 115. 58 Ibid., p. 10. 59 Cf. Joel Fineman, “ The History of the Anecdote. Fiction and Fiction ” , in: Harold Aram Veeser (ed.), The New Historicism, London/ New York 1989, pp. 49 - 76. 60 Ibid., p. 56. 61 Ibid., p. 57. 62 Ibid., p. 61. 63 Ibid., p. 64. 64 Ibid. 65 Cf. Greenblatt, Wunderbare Besitztümer, p. 11; Fineman, “ The History of the Anecdote ” , p. 61. 66 Cf. Stephen Greenblatt and Catherine Gallagher, “ Counterhistory and the Anecdote ” , in: id., Practicing New Historicism, Chicago 2000, pp. 49 - 73, here: pp. 54 and 68. 67 Ibid., p. 11. 68 Ibid., p. 12. 69 Cf. Jean-François Lyotard, “ La délégitimation ” , in: id., La condition postmoderne, Paris 1979, pp. 63 - 68. 70 Cf. Greenblatt and Gallagher, ibid., pp. 54 and 68. 71 Ibid., p. 70. 72 Cf. Fineman, ibid., p. 61: “ The anecdote produces the effect of the real, the occurrence of the contingency, by establishing an event as an event . . . ” . 73 By ‘ archival turn ’ I mean a different development than that of the “ lecture performance and its narrative forms on the stages of the 1990s. ” Cf. Gabriele Brandstetter, “ Geschichte(n)Erzählen im Performance/ Theater der neunziger Jahre ” , in: Erika Fischer-Lichte, Doris Kolesch and Christel Weiler (eds.), Transformationen. Theater der neunziger Jahre, Berlin 1999, pp. 27 - 42. The turn that one might call an ‘ archival turn ’ combines the differing variants of the ‘ re- 301 The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? enactment ’ trend with the reflections on the Tanz-Archiv, Tanz-Erbe (see the institutional funding of the Tanzfonds Erbe) and a revision of the relationship between archive, repertoire, and reconstruction; cf.: Gabriele Brandstetter, “ Stocktaking in the Realm of Dance. Scholarship on Dance: Theory and Practice ” , in: Martina Hochmuth, Krassimira Kruschkova and Georg Schöllhammer (eds.), It Takes Place When It Doesn ’ t. On Dance and Performance Since 1989, Wien 2006, pp. 73 - 79; Taylor, The Archive and the Repertoire. 74 For this concept as a key turn of the New Historicism, cf. Stephen Greenblatt, Shakespeare Negotiations. The Circulation of Social Energy in Renaissance England - The New Historicism. Studies in Cultural Poetics, Berkeley 1988. 75 Mette Ingvartsen, 69 Positions, premiered in 2014 in Essen. 76 With this ‘ cross section ’ Ingvartsen is following a historiographic concept for transferring random documents and their historical context into a representative narrative. Cf. relevant literature: Friedrich A. Kittler, Aufschreibesystem. 1800/ 1900, Munich 2003; Hans Ulrich Gumbrecht, 1926. Ein Jahr am Rand der Zeit, Frankfurt a. M. 2003; Stefan Andriopolous and Bernhard J. Dotzler (eds.): 1929. Beiträge zur Archäologie der Medien, Frankfurt a. M. 2002; Florian Illies, 1913. Der Sommer des Jahrhunderts, Frankfurt a. M. 2015; Deutsches Literaturarchiv Marbach, August 1914. Literatur und Krieg, Marbach 2013. 77 Premiered in 1965 in Stockholm; on the recreation of this piece, Parades and Changes, Replays (2008) by Ann Collod, cf. Gabriele Brandstetter, “ Re-Play. Choreographie von Stoffen zwischen Mode und Performance: Anna Halprins ‘ Parades and Changes ’” , in: Gertrud Lehnert, Räume der Mode, Munich 2012, pp. 217 - 233. 78 Cf. Gabriele Brandstetter, “ Der Körper als Anekdote. Beobachtungen zum Bewegungstheater der 90er Jahre ” , in: MLN Gesture and Gag. The Body as Medium 115.3, Baltimore 2000, pp. 403 - 422. 302 Gabriele Brandstetter Rezensionen Evelyn Annuß. Volksschule des Theaters. Nationalsozialistische Massenspiele. Paderborn: Fink 2019, 569 Seiten. Formen und Formwandel der nationalsozialistischen Massenspiele stehen im Zentrum der materialreichen und anschaulich illustrierten Studie der Theaterwissenschaftlerin Evelyn Annuß. Aus gouvernementalitätstheoretischer Perspektive fragt die Autorin nach den mit der Machteinsetzung Hitlers sich entwickelnden und mit der Konsolidierung des nationalsozialistischen Regimes verändernden Regierungstechniken, die im Theater (mit)gestaltet und erprobt wurden. Dem viel diskutierten Zusammenhang von Ästhetik und Politik im Nationalsozialismus widmet sie sich, indem sie den Foucaultschen Begriff der Regierungskunst ernst nimmt und die ästhetischen „ Angebote [. . .] und Techniken der Selbstlenkung, die von Theaterleuten entwickelt “ wurden (S. 2), einer eingehenden Untersuchung unterzieht. Es geht der Autorin damit nicht um eine Ideologie- oder Repräsentationskritik, sondern um das performative Moment der Vergemeinschaftung und affektive Formen der Subjektivierung, mithin um die NS-Regierungskünste als körpergebundene Techniken. Die Rolle der sich etablierenden Theaterwissenschaften als „ anwendungsorientierte szenische Forschung “ (S. 59) auf diesem Feld präzise auszuloten, ist dabei das fachhistorisch spezifizierte Ziel der Studie. In gut nachvollziehbaren Analysen einzelner paradigmatischer Inszenierungen skizziert Annuß den Weg vom bereits 1933 erprobten Stadionspiel über das 1934 mit dem Bau von Freilufttheatern forcierte Thingspiel bis hin zum Unterhaltungsspektakel mit Massenornament, das seit den Olympischen Spielen von 1936 das Gesicht der NS-Massenspiele prägen sollte, bevor der Krieg derartige Großevents verunmöglichte. Auf einer breiten Quellenbasis, die Material aus zahlreichen privaten, städtischen und staatlichen Archiven und Nachlässen sowie eine beeindruckende Bandbreite an zeitgenössischen Periodika und Zeitungen, aber auch Partituren, Fotografien und Filmen umfasst, werden die ästhetischen Eigenlogiken der verschiedenen Massenspiele minutiös herausgearbeitet. Dabei geraten sowohl der experimentelle Charakter des Theaterschaffens als auch die konfliktträchtigen Konkurrenzverhältnisse zwischen den maßgeblichen Protagonist*innen in den Blick, denn auch auf dem Feld der Propaganda lässt sich die vielfach konstatierte Polyzentrik der NS-Herrschaft beobachten. Dies macht nicht zuletzt die Rede von der NS-Ästhetik obsolet, wie die Verfasserin zu Recht betont. In ihren Analysen bleibt Annuß jedoch nicht beim einzelnen Fallbeispiel stehen. Es gelingt der Autorin vielmehr sehr gut, einerseits die historischen Vorläufer der untersuchten Formelemente - von Turnvater Jahns Vergemeinschaftungsversuchen über das Volkstheater und proletarische Weihespiele bis hin zum wagnerischen Jubelchor - herauszuarbeiten und dabei stets auch die Struktur- und Formdifferenzen aufzuzeigen. Im frühen NS-Massenspiel zeigte sich beispielsweise noch die prägende Kraft des Ausdruckstanzes und mithin der künstlerischen Avantgarde, die sich teils mit dem NS-Regime arrangierte und, wie die Autorin argumentiert, nun auf etwas Neues, i. e. eine „ nationalsozialistische [. . .] andere [. . .] Moderne “ (S. 25) abzielte. Der Rückgriff auf die christliche Liturgie mit ihren etablierten Ritualen wiederum half, qua Zitation und Resignifizierung, neue Führungstechniken durchzusetzen. Andererseits gelingt es Annuß, durch Vergleiche mit Formexperimenten in anderen Ländern - etwa Mussolinis Theater der Zwanzigtausend oder den russischen Revolutionsspielen der 1920er Jahre - die nationalsozialistischen Massenspiele auch international zu kontextualisieren. Der italienische Faschismus, der auf antike Spielorte zurückgreifen konnte, sollte performativ und durch eigens errichtete Theaterstätten überboten werden; anders als das bolschewistische Revolutionsspiel war das NS-Massenspiel nicht an Partizipation und einer Kritik am Verhältnis von oben und unten, sondern an Gefolgschaft und, räumlich betrachtet, der (hierarchischen) Vertikalen interessiert. Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 303 - 304. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0027 Zur vielschichtigen Einbettung des Untersuchungsgegenstandes gehört zudem, dass neben der theaterwissenschaftlichen Untersuchung der Entstehung und institutionellen Rahmung der Massenspiele, ihrer Sprech- und Bewegungschöre und - besonders eindrücklich - ihrer jeweiligen (Theater-)Architekturen auch eine dezidiert mediengeschichtliche Perspektive verfolgt wird. Denn der Versuch, nationalsozialistische Festspiele zu schaffen, lässt sich ohne die Entwicklung des Radios und seiner Techniken der Lautverstärkung nicht verstehen. In dem in der Regimephase dominant werdenden Unterhaltungsspektakel schließlich gewann das Visuelle gegenüber dem Akustischen die Oberhand; ohne transmediale Formzitate und den Mediendispositivwechsel vom Radio zum Film mit seiner Mobilisierung einer kollektiv eingenommenen Vogelperspektive ist der Wandel der NS-Massenspiele vom Thingzum Stadionspiel nicht zu erklären. Stand beim Thingspiel noch die gemeinsame (notwendig theatrale) Volkwerdung im Mittelpunkt, zu der auch die performative Exklusion ‚ der Anderen ‘ und die Ausschlussdrohung gegenüber unentschiedenen „ Volksgenossen “ gehören konnte, verschob sich mit der Etablierung des Regimes der Fokus auf die „ formierte Volksfigur “ (S. 58), die nun als Spektakel der Reichsparteitage in Erscheinung trat. Als spezifisch nationalsozialistisches Formproblem macht Annuß dabei durchgängig die Notwendigkeit aus, Gefolgschaft als Einheit von Volk und Führer inszenieren zu müssen. Sie veranschaulicht diese Problematik insbesondere am spannungsreichen Verhältnis von Chor und Einzelfigur, das immer wieder zu missglückten Inszenierungen führte - etwa wenn die Einzelfigur in der Weite des Raumes unterging oder ‚ der Führer ‘ evoziert werden musste, aber nicht selbst anwesend sein konnte und es somit zu einem wiederkehrenden „ Widerstreit von Präsenzbehauptung und exponierter Nichtidentität “ (S. 164) kam. Keineswegs also war die NS-Propaganda durchgängig erfolgreich: Langeweile beim Publikum war eines der Probleme, mit denen die Theaterleute zu kämpfen hatten und die zu disziplinierenden Maßnahmen führten. Das vom Oberammergauer Passionsspiel übernommene Klatschverbot wäre als Beispiel für eine versuchte Rezeptionssteuerung zu nennen - oder aber der von Ordnern vereitelte Aufbruch der Besucher*innen eines Thingspiels in Heidelberg im Jahre 1935, die vor einem nahenden Unwetter flüchten wollten. Mit Beispielen wie diesen gelingt es der Autorin, eigensinniges Agieren und damit auch Momente des Scheiterns der (frühen) Massenspiele in den Blick zu nehmen. Darüber hätte man gerne noch mehr gelesen; dasselbe gilt für die geschlechterhistorischen Aspekte des Themas, die zwar aufscheinen, wenn etwa die geringe Zahl von Frauen im Hauptchor des Thingspiels Der Weg ins Reich von 1935 erwähnt und damit erklärt wird, dass diesem „ eine männliche Stimme und Erscheinungsform “ verliehen werden sollte (S. 272). Systematisch aber wird die geschlechtertheoretische Dimension nicht erschlossen. Annuß ‘ Studie bietet eine genaue, (teils zu) detaillierte Analyse, welche die kleinen und großen Veränderungen in der Figurierung der Masse im Laufe der 1930er Jahre theater- und medienwissenschaftlich reflektiert darlegt und damit die bisherige Forschung überzeugend differenziert. Erst mit der „ geordneten Arenamasse “ (S. 409) ging laut Annuß eine neue Art der (form)politischen Regulierung einher, die nun auf Überwältigungsästhetik setzte. Hinsichtlich des Immersionscharakters der Massenspiele kann Annuß vielfältige Kontinuitätslinien über 1945 hinaus verdeutlichen - hin zu Reenactments in der heutigen Eventkultur oder aktuellen Werbeästhetiken mit ihrem Erlebnisversprechen. Auch derartigen postdisziplinären Subjektivierungsangeboten, die Annuß genealogisch bis in die NS- Zeit zurückverfolgt, kritisch zu begegnen, ist ein zentrales Anliegen der Studie, die darüber aber keineswegs die thanatopolitische Dimension der NS-Regierungskünste vergisst. Leipzig M AREN M ÖHRING Katarina Kleinschmidt. Artistic Research als Wissensgefüge. Eine Praxeologie des Probens im zeitgenössischen Tanz. München: epodium Verlag 2018, 305 Seiten. Für ihre Promotionsschrift zu „ generativen Routinen und Partizipanden des Probens im zeitge- Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 304 - 306. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0028 304 Rezensionen nössischen Tanz “ erhielt Katarina Kleinschmidt 2016 den Tanzwissenschaftspreis NRW. Damit stellte sie Annemarie Matzkes vier Jahre zuvor erschienenem Standardwerk zur Geschichte und Theorie der Probe als spezifische Arbeit im und an Theater eine eingehende Untersuchung choreographischer Arbeitsweisen an die Seite. „ Eine Praxeologie des Probens im zeitgenössischen Tanz “ , wie Kleinschmidts Publikation ihrer Dissertation im Untertitel heißt, konzentriert sich im Wesentlichen auf die eingehende Erforschung und systematische Aufarbeitung der Entstehungsprozesse zweier Produktionen - womit bereits ein Forschungsdesiderat erfüllt wäre, liegen doch zur wissenschaftlichen Beschäftigung mit Probenarbeit und deren Dokumentation im Tanz nach wie vor nur wenige Titel vor. Indem Kleinschmidt ihre Forschung im Feld von Artistic Research situiert und mit dieser Verortung in ihrem Forschungsüberblick zugleich eine kritische Aufarbeitung gängiger Paradigmata künstlerischer Forschung verbindet, leistet sie darüber hinaus einen kreativen und überzeugenden Beitrag, wie Wissen im zeitgenössischen Tanz produziert wird. Leitend ist dabei die Fragestellung nach eingeübten und verinnerlichten Handlungsabläufen in künstlerischen Prozessen, jenen „ immer schon geteilten Selbstverständlichkeiten “ (S. 19), mit denen in kollektiven und komplexen Arbeitszusammenhängen Bewegungs- und szenisches Material generiert, ausgehandelt, evaluiert, dokumentiert, internalisiert und weiterbearbeitet wird. Mit der positiven Bestimmung von ‚ Routinen ‘ platziert Kleinschmidt einen Gegenentwurf zu Konzeptionen, die Artistic Research vorrangig als wissenschaftskritische, Gewohnheiten durchkreuzende und Routinen störende und deswegen als innovativ geltende Praxis fassen. Hingegen sollen Kleinschmidt zufolge „ Proben als spezifische Wissensmuster bzw. als Teile größerer Wissensgefüge verdeutlicht werden, in denen Routinen dem hoch reflexiven choreographischen Arbeiten nicht im Weg stehen, sondern es erst ermöglichen “ . (S. 37) Dies zeigt die Autorin im Wesentlichen an den Produktionen wallen von Sebastian Matthias (2012) und You Are Here von Antje Velsinger (2013), die sie beide auch als Dramaturgin begleitete. In den ersten beiden Kapiteln ihrer Arbeit basiert Kleinschmidt ihren Zugriff auf Praxistheorien (wie Alkemeyer, Bourdieu, Hirschauer, Knorr Cetina, Schatzki, Reckwitz) und projektiert eine „ Logik der Praxis “ (S. 103, nach Bourdieu) für den zeitgenössischen Tanz. Diese Logik identifiziert sie im Folgenden am Beispiel von selbstverständlichen Handlungsabläufen, mit denen in Proben Wissen generiert werden kann. Dazu unterzieht sie ihre bei den Proben zu den genannten Stücken gemachten Erfahrungen und Beobachtungen einer eingehenden Analyse, die methodisch qualitative empirische Forschung, empirisch begründete Theoriebildung und theoretische Fragestellungen miteinander verschränkt. Fünf ‚ generative Routinen des Probens ‘ arbeitet Katarina Kleinschmidt heraus: erstens das Bilden von Begriffen als spezifische Praktik, mit der „ Material im Wechselverhältnis von Sagen und Zeigen “ (S. 161) hervorgebracht wird; zweitens das praxisimmanente Ziehen von Grenzen zwischen der Generierung von Material und dessen Diskussion, was den Probentag auch zeitlich strukturieren kann und nebenbei Auskunft darüber gibt, wer über diesen Ablauf zu bestimmen legitimiert ist; drittens die Kombination unterschiedlicher Forschungsweisen (naturwissenschaftliche Methodik und Dekonstruktion) und Übernahme unhinterfragter Gewissheiten (zum Beispiel universalisierte Konzepte Rudolf von Labans); viertens Gespräche beispielsweise über den Wert des eigenen künstlerischen Tuns ( ‚ Beglaubigungen ‘ ) und die Wirkweisen der entstehenden choreographischen Arbeit sowie fünftens verabredete Formate von ‚ Reflektieren ‘ , wobei zu beachten sei, „ dass Reflexion und (selbst-)referenzielle Bezüge im Feld bereits hochgradig etabliert sind “ . (S. 205) Diese ‚ fünf Routinen ‘ bieten sich als praktikables und kluges Raster an, um choreographische und theatrale Prozesse zu dokumentieren und zu analysieren. Im letzten Kapitel widmet sich Katarina Kleinschmidt ‚ Partizipanden des Probens ‘ , womit Gegenstände wie Laptop, Kamera, Papier, Post-its etc. gemeint sind, deren Gebrauch im Studio Handlungsroutinen folgt, kollektives Handeln kanalisiert und die selbst auch Material hervorbringen. Bemerkenswert ist nicht nur die Fülle an Material, das Kleinschmidt generiert und in einer Weise aufbereitet, dass trotz der starken Ver- 305 Rezensionen dichtung einerseits und der detailreichen Darstellung andererseits die zugrundeliegenden Prozesse in ihrem Ablauf (wenn auch nicht immer leicht) erkennbar bleiben. Auch die hochkomplexen Vernetzungsleistungen, Systematisierungen sowie die Diskussion der Ergebnisse sind hervorzuheben. Zugleich kann die Autorin überzeugend nachweisen, dass Artistic Research im Tanz notwendig weder als sprachlos zu konzeptionieren noch jenseits gewohnter Handlungsabläufe zu situieren ist. Wenn es gelänge, diesen Befund zurück ins Feld zu spielen und produktiv zu machen, dann könnten davon einerseits die fachliche Auseinandersetzung und andererseits die Ausgestaltung konkreter Probenprozesse und deren Metareflexion profitieren, die, wie Kleinschmidt herausarbeitet, oft automatisiert und implizit ablaufe. Was dieser reichen Arbeit noch fehlt, das ist meines Erachtens die Rückbindung ihrer Ergebnisse an künstlerische und kulturelle Kontexte. Zwar bringt Katarina Kleinschmidt punktuell Bezüge zu künstlerischen Manövern, z. B. dem ‚ neutral doer ‘ und der Bewältigung von Aufgaben im Umfeld der Judson Dance Theater-Bewegung, und zu kulturellen Praktiken wie der westlich zentrierten Vogelperspektive, mit der auf räumliche Relationen gesehen wird, doch fehlen grundsätzliche Überlegungen zur kulturellen Prägung und Valenz gängiger Routinen. Woher rührt beispielsweise die konstatierte Vorliebe für das Führen von Listen, das als weniger hierarchisch als andere Organisationsprinzipien gilt, und warum gilt es als das? Auf welche künstlerischen Praktiken außerhalb des choreographischen Feldes gehen die verwendeten Formate zurück? Gab es Verschiebungen bei der Übernahme auf und in der Übersetzung in den zeitgenössischen Tanz? Und wenn ja, welche? Wie etablierte sich der ‚ Sitzkreis ‘ als Diskussions- und Reflexionskonvention? Indem Kleinschmidt zu solchen Fragen anregt, ergibt sich ein weiteres Desiderat im Bereich von Konfektionierung und Bestimmung der Probe im zeitgenössischen Tanz. Zu letzterer leistet Kleinschmidts Buch einen substantiellen Beitrag. Frankfurt am Main K ATJA S CHNEIDER Henning Fülle. Freies Theater. Die Modernisierung der deutschen Theaterlandschaft (1960 - 2010). Theater der Zeit Recherchen 125. Berlin: Theater der Zeit 2016, 500 Seiten. Henning Fülles Monographie zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Freien Theaters in (West-) Deutschland ab 1960 wurde 2015 als Dissertation am Hildesheimer Institut für Kulturpolitik bei Prof. Dr. Wolfgang Schneider verteidigt. Diese sieht sich der Darstellung eines „ Innovationspotenzials “ Freien Theaters verpflichtet, „ das auch im deutschen Theater die Überwindung der Traditionspflege bürgerlicher Hochkultur ermöglicht “ , so der Buchrückentext. Der Autor spricht bewusst vom „ Freien Theater “ im Singular und er setzt sich damit explizit kritisch ab von theaterwissenschaftlichen Ansätzen, wie sie etwa Annemarie Matzke (vgl. S. 19 - 22) oder Nikolaus Müller-Schöll (S. 26) hinsichtlich einer Begriffsdifferenzierung vorgeschlagen hatten, um der Vielfalt der Erscheinungs- und Produktionsformen ‚ freien ‘ Theaters gerecht zu werden. Fülle argumentiert hingegen kulturpolitisch: Um die zu lange übersehene Bedeutung eben jener Formen des Theaterschaffens aufzeigen zu können, welche seit Jahrzehnten ganz besonders unter der Theaterfinanzierungskrise litten, brauche es einen festen Begriff (S. 21). Für die Einordnung der Publikation ist es wichtig, die in der 30seitigen Einleitung deutlich formulierte Absicht zur Kenntnis zu nehmen, in erster Linie bisherige Kulturförderdebatten neu perspektivieren zu wollen. Das Freie Theater möchte Fülle nicht in Bezug auf dessen Ästhetik analysieren; ihn interessieren vielmehr die spezifischen „ Konzeptionen, Strukturen und Institutionen des Freien Theaters “ , die er auf Grundlage von „ konzeptionelle[n] Selbstbeschreibungen und programmatische[n] Texte[n] und ähnliche[n] Materialien “ (S. 36) vorstellen und würdigen möchte. Hierfür spannt der Autor einen Bogen von den frühen 1960er Jahren in der BRD bis in die gesamtdeutsche Gegenwart, etwa im Jahr 2010, um in sieben chronologisch angeordneten Kapiteln seinen Gegenstand als in verschiedene historische Phasen zu unterscheidendes und stets - Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 306 - 308. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0029 306 Rezensionen so die Grundidee Fülles - vom Stadttheaterschaffen abgetrenntes Phänomen (u. a. S. 13) zu konstruieren. Im Hauptteil unterscheidet er drei separat zu betrachtende „ historische Strukturformen “ (S. 36 f ): die „ Bewegung der Freien Gruppen “ (1970 - 1975) als „ Politisches Volkstheater “ , das „ Theater der Freien Szene “ (1976 - 1986) als „ Alternativbewegung und Gegenkultur “ , und das „ System des Freien Theaters “ (1986 - 2010) als Phase der „ Strukturbildung und Institutionalisierung “ . Vorangestellt wird noch vor einem Kapitel zu „ Proto-theatralen Praktiken “ ( „ Straßentheater, Agitprop, Animation “ ) 1969 und 1970 ein „ Prolog: Das Jahrzehnt der Unruhe “ . Hierin werden ‚ Reformdiskurse ‘ von 1960 bis 1968 aus dem Fachmagazin Theater heute referiert - wobei die Betrachtung ausgerechnet mit dem Jahr endet, in dem die wichtigen systemwie selbstkritischen Veränderungsbestrebungen innerhalb der Stadttheater (denn um eben deren Reformbedarf geht es hier) - getragen vor allem von einer jungen Generation Theaterschaffender - in das Stadium der praktischen Versuche innerhalb der Institutionen selbst übergingen. Problematisch ist diese Blickverengung deshalb, weil Fülle die These verfolgt, dass nur das Freie Theater die „ unvollkommene Modernisierung der deutschen Theaterlandschaft “ (S. 13) vorantreiben könne. Im „ Epilog: Theater in der Krise. Die Agenda der Kulturpolitik “ wie schon im vorletzten Kapitel „ Theater für die Postmoderne “ wird eben dieser Zusammenhang „ Freies Theater und die Modernisierung der deutschen Theaterlandschaft “ (so der Kapiteluntertitel) final darzulegen versucht. Es folgt ein unkommentierter Anhang: „ Dokumente zur Geschichte des Freien Theaters “ . Von den acht sehr lesenswerten Texten stammen vier aus Theater heute (1968 - 1974) und sie sind tatsächlich ebenso zu den wichtigen Dokumenten einer noch kaum erzählten Geschichte der ‚ Institutionskritik ‘ im deutschen Stadttheater zu zählen - so etwa der von Fülle zitierte Essay der beiden jungen Ensembleschauspieler*innen Barbara Sichtermann und Jens Johler „ Über den autoritären Geist des deutschen Theaters “ von 1968, dessen Forderungen (u. a. nach Kollektivregie und Mitbestimmung) an verschiedenen Stadttheatern der BRD während der 1970er Jahre durchaus umgesetzt wurden. Die übrigen Texte (1979, 1980, 1997) hat Fülle in Publikationskontexten ohne Theaterbezug gefunden - was die wichtige, rechercheintensive Aufgabe aufzeigt, noch nicht kanonisierte (jüngere) Theatergeschichte darzustellen. Fülles materialreichem Buch kommt das Verdienst zu, nahezulegen, wie wichtig programmatische Texte und auch die Beschreibung der zeitspezifischen gesellschaftspolitischen Intentionen der jeweiligen Akteur*innen für eine Geschichtsschreibung des Freien Theaters sind, das heißt eines Theaterschaffens, das sich nicht lediglich als Phänomen einer nur ästhetischen Innovationslust begreifen lässt. Während der Publikationstitel aber zunächst an ein fraglos nötiges Überblickswerk zur jüngeren Theatergeschichte erinnert und hoffen lässt, dass nun Publikationen wie Barbara Büschers bereits 1987 erschienene Studie Wirklichkeitstheater, Straßentheater, Freies Theater. Entstehung und Entwicklung freier Gruppen in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland 1968 - 76 um weitere Jahrzehnte ergänzt würden, ist das Buch vor allem als Inspiration für weitere, nachprüfende theaterhistoriographische Forschung zu begreifen. In seiner Einleitung erklärt der Autor, darauf verzichtet zu haben, die „ große[n], ungeordnete[n] Sammlungen von Akten, Papieren, Druckschriften, Ton-, Bild- und Datenträgern etc. “ , die in verschiedenen Institutionen und bei Privatpersonen anzufinden seien, erstmals für eine wissenschaftliche Recherche zu erschließen (in der Tat wäre dies durch eine Einzelperson nicht zu leisten); auch die Befragung von Zeitzeug*innen habe er bewusst unterlassen (S. 35). Es handele sich daher bei seiner Dissertationsschrift nicht um die „ Darstellung einer umfassenden und abgeschlossenen Erforschung der Geschichte oder Begriffsgeschichte des Freien Theaters in Deutschland “ und es handele sich zudem „ weder um eine (empirisch orientierte) Diskursanalyse noch um eine sozial- oder kulturhistorische oder begriffsgeschichtliche Studie “ , „ und schon gar nicht [. . .] um Theaterwissenschaft “ (S. 35). Stattdessen bezieht sich Fülle auf die „ spekulativhermeneutische Methodik “ Fritz Hermanns, die keine „ Wahrheit “ produzieren möchte (S. 35 f) - und so wolle er seine Arbeit als „ Vorschlag [. . .] 307 Rezensionen der weiteren Debatte zum Thema “ verstanden wissen (S. 36). Dennoch wäre es notwendig gewesen, dass Fülle die eigenen Auswahlkriterien für sein Quellenmaterial transparent macht und auf die notwendigen Ausklammerungen verweist; stattdessen fehlt eine Reflexion der eigenen theaterhistoriographischen Methoden. So blendet Fülle alle jene Dokumente und Publikationen aus, die eine andere Erzählung als die der von ihm immer wieder aufgerufenen „ Teilung der Theaterlandschaft “ (S. 11, 13 etc.) aufzeigen könnten: etwa die einer engen, unter anderem durch geteilte politische Forderungen und kritische Theorien motivierten Wechselwirkung zwischen den theatralen Protest- und Kunstformen außerhalb der professionellen Theaterinstitutionen und denjenigen innerhalb derselben in den 1960er und 1970er Jahren. Dass Fülle die Geschichte der äußerst experimentier- und selbstkritikfreudigen Jahre um und ab 1968 somit lediglich knapp als gescheiterte erzählt - „ Impulse zu seiner Umwälzung münden rasch in heil- und fruchtlose Debatten um (gewerkschaftliche) Mitbestimmung an den Theatern “ (S. 268) - , führt ihn zur Diagnose „ der künstlerischen ‚ Rückständigkeit ‘ des westdeutschen Theaterwesens “ (S. 268). Er stellt ohne weitere Ausführungen lediglich fest: „ die Impulse struktureller und ästhetischer Modernisierung werden zunächst kaum umgesetzt “ (S. 268). Zunächst kaum? Und so schreibt Fülle die neuen, auf gemeinsamen Entscheidungen basierenden Arbeitsweisen und Dramaturgien, die Einbeziehung neuer Publikumsgruppen (wie „ kulturferne Schichten “ , Kinder- und Jugendliche, S. 270) oder die damalige „ oppositionelle Sehnsucht nach ‚ anders leben, anders arbeiten ‘“ (S. 271), die im Theaterbereich zu einer Reflexion der eigenen Produktionsweisen führte, ausschließlich dem Freien Theater zu. Die alleinige Fokussierung auf eine Geschichte Freien Theaters, das sich ab Mitte der 1970er in verschiedenen Stadien neu und alternativ konstituierte (S. 271), wäre nicht zu kritisieren - die gleichzeitige Ableitung weitgehender Schlussfolgerungen aus dem Nichtbeachten jener anderen, ebenfalls wechselhaften Stadttheatergeschichte(n) aber ist es schon. Berlin A NNA V OLKLAND Lore Knapp. Formen des Kunstreligiösen. Peter Handke — Christoph Schlingensief. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink, 2015. 379 Seiten. Mit ihrer Monographie Formen des Kunstreligiösen. Peter Handke - Christoph Schlingensief (2015) leistet Lore Knapp einen wertvollen literatur- und theaterwissenschaftlichen Beitrag zur Frage des Kunstreligiösen. Nicht die Kunstreligion - wie in Bayreuth um Wagner - interessiert Knapp, sondern das Kunstreligiöse oder, wie sie präzisiert, die „ affektive Transzendenzerfahrungen “ , die sich „ in der Form von Texten oder der Struktur von Kunstereignissen “ manifestieren (S. 19). In der „ Überschreitungsmetaphorik “ (S. 333) weist Knapp dabei ästhetischen und theologischen Konzepten des Transzendenten eine Strukturanalogie nach. Diese finde sich gegenüber Objekten (Aura, Präsens) sowie im Erleben von Subjekten (Schwellenerfahrung mit potentieller Transformation). Ob eine Transzendenzerfahrung nun ästhetisch oder religiös ist, sei letztlich eine subjektive Zuschreibung, drei Kriterien seien dabei aber ausschlaggebend: ein nachweisbarer Bezug zu einer bestehenden Religion, eine nachweisliche Anlehnung der ästhetischen Form an eben diese und eine selbstreflexive Tendenz, so dass das Religiöse nicht für sich steht, sondern der ästhetischen Wirkung zuträgt. Da diese Phänomene ebenso in anderen Kontexten sowie transnational und -kulturell zu beobachten sind, wünscht man Knapps Studie ehrgeizige Anschlussforschung, so z. B. in einer Erweiterung der Ritualforschung Turners oder van Genneps oder zu vermeintlich totalsäkularisierten Kulturphänomenen wie der Popkultur. Das Kunstreligiöse dürfte sich auch hier als ein kritisches Zugriffsinstrument auf gesellschaftliche Wandlungsprozesse einer säkularisierten Moderne erweisen. Knapps Studie ist in drei umfassende Kapitel geteilt. Sie zeigt in den ersten beiden Teilen anhand der Schreib-, Inszenierungs- und Kompositionsstrategien von Handke und Schlingensief sowie im dritten Teil über ausgewählte ästhetische Theorien die Bandbreite kunstreligiöser Erscheinungsformen auf. Damit sind zwei Künstler gewählt, die bei allen Unterschieden doch die einschlägige katholische Prägung gemeinsam Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 308 - 310. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen DOI 10.2357/ FMTh-2021-0030 308 Rezensionen haben. Knapp umbettet diese mit diskursgeschichtlichen Kontextualisierungen (Aufklärung, Romantik, Kritische Theorie u. a.) und künstlerischen Vorläufern (Novalis, Wagner, Beuys u. a.) ähnlicher Glaubensausrichtung. Das bedeutet allerdings keine Verengung der Perspektive, hat doch Handkes „ ästhetische Phänomenologie “ (S. 77) einen existentialistischen Einschlag und kulminiert in eine pantheistische Weltsicht. Und evoziert doch Schlingensiefs Beschäftigung mit dem Kunstreligiösen einen privatmythologischen Synkretismus, der sich aus Christentum, Voodoo, Buddhismus, heidnischen Mythologien u. a. speist und - so zitiert Knapp Schlingensiefs Dramaturgen Carl Hegemann - auf eine Versinnlichung und „ Globalisierung der Transzendenz “ (S. 208) zielt. Teil I erarbeitet Privatmythologie, Mystik und Mytheme Handkes und führt diese mit der performativen Schreibsituation der Erzählerfiguren zusammen. Diese ist auf Evokation von diesseitigen Transzendenzerfahrungen im körperlichen Vollzug des Schreibens und im Erscheinen der Schrift ausgerichtet. Die empfundene Einheit mit der Schrift ist, so Knapp, strukturanalog zur religiösen Empfindung der Einheit mit Gott. Diese Zustände, so hebt Knapp hervor, sind die eines aufgeklärten Bewusstseinsstandes, das die eigene Tätigkeit dadurch nobilitiert, dass es das Höhere, das einst das religiös Heilige bot, auf sein eigenes Tun projiziert und somit Schreiben zu einer beinahe unangreifbaren Ethik stilisiert. Diese Verabsolutierung eines literarischen Schreibens - wie das Handkes - , das eben reale Zeitgeschichte und Wirklichkeitsbezug negiert, wird fragwürdig, wenn „ subjektive ästhetische Werte über allgemeine Grundwerte wie den Schutz des Lebens oder die Geschichte der Menschen gestellt werden “ und Äußerungen „ basierend auf privatmythologischen Bedeutungsbehauptungen politisch Position “ beziehen (S. 152 f.). Angesichts der jüngsten Handke- Debatte wäre eine Ausführung dieser Kritik wünschenswert gewesen. Analytische Brillanz zeigt Knapp in dem unbedingt lesenswerten Schlingensief-Kapitel. Denn Schlingensiefs prozessuale Ästhetik, der das Werden ein Inszenierungsprinzip des vorgängigen Selbstwiderspruchs ist, überfordert mit seiner Fülle an Paradoxien, Zufällen und dem Unverständlichen von synkretistisch verbastelten religiösen Bilderwelten, Symbolen, Requisiten, Ritualen und Räumen nicht selten neben Ensemble und Zuschauer*innen auch Wissenschaftler*innen. Als zentral erweist sich dabei, dass Schlingensief alle Anleihen an Religionen der selbstreferentiellen Brechung aussetzt, so dass sich sowohl das zitierte religiöse Element als auch die Inszenierung selbst als Inszenierung zeigen. Durch diese gegenseitige Überlappung eröffnet sich für ihn ein Spielraum, in dem er über weite Strecken seines Schaffens, Möglichkeiten des Kunstreligiösen austestet. Für Knapp kommt es Schlingensief dabei vor allem auf eine Emanzipation der Zuschauer*innen gegenüber dem Religiösen oder Mystischen an. Jede Aufladung des Erlebten soll von den Zuschauer*innen als Inszenierungseffekt reflektiert werden. Einheitserfahrungen wie bei Handkes meditativer und daher passiver Haltung des Schreibenden, aber auch des Lesenden, verweigert Schlingensief. Stattdessen verlangt er die Emanzipation zum handelnden Hinterfragen von kunstreligiöser Inszenierung in der Aufführung auch von den Zuschauer*innen, die im Überangebot des Bühnengeschehens passiv verloren gingen. Stattdessen fühle sich das Publikum aufgerufen, kritisch dem suggerierten „ Mehr an Bedeutung, das nicht greifbar ist “ (S. 194) nachzugehen. Das verlangt freilich eine äußerst präzise Inszenierung, denn das Religiöse oder Mystische muss ja zunächst einmal tatsächlich evoziert und von den Zuschauer*innen als solches wahrgenommen und emotional zugelassen werden, bevor es gebrochen und somit der Reflexion geöffnet werden kann. Aber eben genau damit ermögliche Schlingensief nicht nur eine Kritik des Religiösen, sondern auch des Kunstreligiösen (S. 179). Neben den Studien zu Handke und Schlingensief rekonstruiert Knapp in einem dritten Teil, wie sich kunstreligiöse Argumentationsweisen in die ästhetische Theorie seit Kant eingeschlichen haben und bis heute besonders prominent von Gumbrecht, Mersch oder Seel als Aura, Erhabenheit oder Präsens variiert werden. Dem sei, so Knapp, einzig Erika Fischer-Lichte entgegenzusetzen, in deren Ästhetik des Performativen erstmals ein begriffliches Instrumentarium bereitgestellt werde, um kunstreligiöse Implika- 309 Rezensionen tionen aufzuzeigen. Das von Fischer-Lichte als autopoietische Feedbackschleife versachlichte Spiel zwischen intentionaler und nichtintentionaler Wahrnehmung der Zuschauer*innen während einer Performance, die eine an das Wahrnehmungssubjekt gebundene und damit diesseitige ästhetische Bedeutungsemergenz generiere, vermeide ein Ausweichen in numinose Kunstbegriffe, so Knapp. Dass diese Auseinandersetzung nicht vorangestellt wurde, mag vielleicht der Überlegung geschuldet sein, dass es sich in Teil III um ein kritisches Nachweisen handelt, nicht um eine Sichtung der Forschungsliteratur. Die behandelten Theoretiker*innen werden somit auch als Praktiker*innen des Kunstreligiösen betrachtet. Leider kommt Fischer-Lichtes Ästhetik des Performativen somit auch erst am Ende der Monographie zur Geltung, ihre Konzepte haben jedoch ganz offenbar die vorangegangenen Analysen bestimmt. Das gilt zwar nur eingeschränkt für das Handke-Kapitel, das daher auch als das schwächere erscheint, doch maßgeblich für das Schlingensief-Kapitel und die komplexen rezeptionsästhetischen Mechanismen, die dort zum Tragen kommen. Dieses Kapitel wurde wohl auch deshalb bereits schon häufig zitiert, jüngst u. a. in Nina-Tessa Zahners (2019) und Ella Plaschkas (2020) Arbeiten zu Schlingensief sowie in Koku G. Nonoas Gegenkulturelle Tendenzen im postdramatischen Theater (2020). Bangor S ARAH P OGODA 310 Rezensionen Autorinnen und Autoren Christopher Balme holds the chair in theatre studies at LMU Munich. His publications include Decolonizing the Stage: Theatrical Syncretism and Postcolonial Drama (Oxford 1999); Pacific Performances: Theatricality and Cross-Cultural Encounter in the South Seas (New York 2007); Cambridge Introduction to Theatre Studies (Cambridge 2008); The Theatrical Public Sphere (Cambridge 2014); The Globalization of Theatre 1870 - 1930: The Theatrical Networks of Maurice E. Bandmann (Cambridge 2020). His current research interests focus on the globalization of the arts; theatre and the public sphere; institutional aesthetics. He is principal investigator of the ERC Advanced Grant “ Developing Theatre: Building Expert Networks for Theatre in Emerging Countries after 1945 ” and the DFG Research Unit “ Krisengefüge der Künste - Institutionelle Transformationsdynamiken in den darstellenden Künsten der Gegenwart ” (FOR 2734). Gabriele Brandstetter is Professor of Theatre and Dance Studies at Freie Universität Berlin, and since 2008 she has been co-director of the International Research Centre “ Interweaving Performance Cultures. ” Her research focus is on the history and aesthetics of dance from the 18 th century until today; theatre and dance of the avant-garde; contemporary theatre and dance, performance, theatricality and gender differences; and concepts of body, movement and image. Recent Publications (selection): The Movements of Interweaving. (ed. 2017, together with Gerko Egert and Holger Hartung); Moving (Across) Borders. Performing Translation, Intervention, Participation (ed. 2017, together with Holger Hartung); The Aging Body in Dance. A Cross-Cultural Perspective (ed. 2017, together with Nanako Nakajima); Poetics of Dance. Body, Image and Space in the Historical Avant-Gardes (2015). Claudia Daiber is a PhD candidate associated with the University of Groningen. Her research focuses on theatre from the German-speaking and Dutch-speaking world of the 14 th to the 17 th century. A specific focus is the reception of the passion play during the Reformation period as well as modern performances of the passion play. Publications (selection): “ Gehen als kommunikative Geste und performativer Akt im ‘ Nibelungenlied ’” , in: Daniela Hahn, Ansgar Mohnkern and Rolf Parr (eds.), Kulturelle Anatomien: Gehen. Heidelberg 2017, pp. 143 - 159, “ Polemics investigated in a late fifteenth-century Fastnachtspiel (Shrovetide play) ” , in: Walter Pohl and Andre Gingrich (eds.), Verging on the Polemical: Exploring the Boundaries of Medieval Religious Polemic and Genres and Research Cultures, in: medievalworlds 7 (2018), p. 114; “ Het Hertmense passiespel en zijn tradities. Nieuwe wijn in oude zakken? ” , in: MADOC 34 (2020). Tancredi Gusman, PhD, is a Research Associate at the Lucerne University of Applied Sciences and Arts. From 2017 to 2019, he was Marie Sk ł odowska-Curie Research Fellow at the Institute of Theatre Studies, Freie Universität Berlin, and conducted the project “ Between Evidence and Representation: History of Performance Art Documentation from 1970 to 1977 ” . His research focusses on history of theatre and performance practices, addressing in particular performance and documentation, German theatre and criticism, as well as aesthetics and theatre theories. He translated the Italian edition of Erika Fischer- Lichte ’ s The Transformative Power of Performance (2014) and published the menograph The Harp and the Sling: Kerr, Ihering, and the German Theatre Criticism from the End of Nineteenth Century to National Socialism (2016; orig. Italian). Elke Huwiler, PhD, is a senior researcher at the Amsterdam School of Historical Studies, University of Amsterdam, where she is the coordinator of the research group “ Historical Theatre Research: Text, Performance, and Production of Knowledge ” . Her research focusses on the history of German-speaking theatre and performance practices, addressing in particular Swiss theatre productions of the 16 th and 17 th centuries. Forum Modernes Theater, 32/ 2 (2021), 311 - 313. Gunter Narr Verlag Tübingen Publications (selection): Das Sarner Bruderklausenspiel von Johann Zurflüe (1601) (ed., Zürich 2017), Das Theater des Spätmittelalters und der Frühen Neuzeit. Kulturelle Verhandlungen in einer Zeit des Wandels (ed., Heidelberg 2015), “ Conversion in Early Modern Zürich, Berne and Lucerne: Identity Formation through Theatre ” (2020). Jan Lazardzig is Professor for Theater Studies at the Freie Universität Berlin. His areas of specialization are theatre and performance historiography; and knowledge, technology, and architecture of theatre. Publications (selection): Theaterhistoriographie. Eine Einführung (Tübingen 2012, together with Matthias Warstat and Viktoria Tkaczyk); Ruinierte Öffentlichkeit (Zürich 2012, ed. together with Claudia Blümle), a study on post-war German theatre architecture; Technologies of Theater (Frankfurt am Main 2016, ed. together with Hole Rößler); Images d ’ actions. Claude-François Ménestrier ’ s Writings on Festivals and Performing Arts. Translation and Commentary (Padeborn 2018, ed. together with Annette Kappeler and Nicola Gess); Wissenschaft aus Gefolgschaft. Der Fall Knudsen und die Anfänge der Theaterwissenschaft (Berlin 2021). François Lecercle is Professor of Comparative Literature at Université Paris-Sorbonne. His research area is Early Modern Culture in Europe (theory of painting; theology of images; demonology; use of narratives in theoretical discourse; theatrophobia). He heads, with Clotilde Thouret, an international research project on theatrophobia ( “ Haine du Théâtre ” , Labex OBVIL, Paris- Sorbonne). Publications (selection): Anecdotes Dramatiques, de la Renaissance aux Lumières (ed., Paris 2012), L ’ Oeil oblique. Essais sur l ’ image, la peinture et le théâtre (Geneva 2020), “ Dispute Dramatique et Théâtrophobie ” (article), “ Obscénité et Théâtrophobie en France et en Angleterre (1570 - 1715) ” (article). Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes is Professor of Modern and Contemporary Art History and academic director of the Amsterdam School for Heritage, Memory, and Material Culture, University of Amsterdam. Until 2014 she was Professor of Iconology in Belfast, where she led a Research Graduate School. She studied in Heidelberg, London, and Cologne. Her PhD was researched as a James Joyce Foundation Scholar in Zurich. She held an Irish Research Council Post-Doctoral Fellowship at UC Dublin. Her books include Brian O ’ Doherty/ Patrick Ireland: Word, Image and Institutional Critique (Amsterdam 2017); Post-War Germany and ‘ Objective Chance ’ : W. G. Sebald, Joseph Beuys and Tacita Dean (Göttingen 2011); James Joyce als Inspirationsquelle für Joseph Beuys (Hildesheim/ Zürich/ New York 2001); and Joyce in Art (Dublin 2004). She has curated exhibitions internationally. Peter W. Marx ist Direktor der Theaterwissenschaftlichen Sammlung der Universität zu Köln sowie Professor für Theater- und Medienwissenschaft am Institut für Medienkultur und Theater der Universität zu Köln. Publikationen in Auswahl: Theater und Kulturelle Erinnerung (Tübingen 2003); Max Reinhardt. Vom bürgerlichen Theater zur metropolitanen Kultur (Tübingen 2006); Ein theatralisches Zeitalter. Bürgerliche Selbstinszenierungen um 1900 (Tübingen 2009); Hamlets Reise nach Deutschland: Eine Kulturgeschichte (Berlin 2018); Macht/ Spiele. Politisches Theater seit 1919 (Berlin 2020). Hg. u. a. von Handbuch Drama (Stuttgart 2012); Handbuch Hamlet (Stuttgart 2012); A Cultural History of Theatre in the Age of Empire (London et al. 2017) sowie mit Tracy C. Davis The Routledge Companion to Theatre and Performance Historiography (London 2020). Maren Möhring wurde 2002 an der LMU München mit einer körpergeschichtlichen Studie über die deutsche Freikörperkultur 1890 - 1930 promoviert. 2011 erfolgte die Habilitation an der Universität zu Köln mit einer Untersuchung über die Geschichte der ausländischen Gastronomie in der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Seit 2014 ist sie Professorin für Vergleichende Kultur- und Gesellschaftsgeschichte des modernen Europa an der Universität Leipzig. Steff Nellis is a PhD candidate and teaching assistant at the Department of Art History, Musicology, and Theatre Studies at Ghent University. His research interests mainly center around theatricality and performativity in the 312 Autorinnen und Autoren early modern world. However, he has also published on contemporary performing arts in several journals such as Lateral, Forum +, Documenta, and Etcetera. Sarah Pogoda ist Senior Lecturer in German Studies an der Universität Bangor (Wales). Sie forscht akademisch und künstlerisch zu Christoph Schlingensief, Institutionskritik und zeitgenössischem Theater. Seit 2020 Gründungsmitglied der Fluxusgruppe Neue Walisische Kunst. Kati Röttger is Professor of Theater and Performance Studies and chair of the Department of Theater Studies at the University of Amsterdam. Her research activities are affiliated with the Amsterdam Center of Globalisation Studies and the Amsterdam School of Cultural Analysis. She is co-founder of the Master of Arts of International Performance Research that ran in close cooperation with the Universities of Warwick, Helsinki and Belgrade from 2008 to 2013. In 2015, she established the Dual Master International Dramaturgy at the UvA. Since 2017, she has been Master's programme director in the Department of Arts and Culture Studies. Her current research topics are Technologies of Spectacle (in the 19 th century), Image Cultures, and International Dramaturgy with a special focus on concepts of the tragic. She has published extensively on a broad range of topics in the field of theatre and performance Studies, such as gender, postcolonial critique, and intermediality. Katja Schneider ist Professorin für Tanztheorie an der HfMDK Frankfurt am Main. Sie promovierte in NDL über den Aufklärungsdramatiker Johann Christian Krüger im Kontext von Emotionalisierungsstrategien und habilitierte sich 2013 in Theaterwissenschaft mit einer Schrift zu Tanz und Text. Figurationen von Sprache und Bewegung. Von 2004 bis 2019 lehrte sie u. a. als wissenschaftliche Mitarbeiterin am Institut für Theaterwissenschaft der Ludwig-Maximilians- Universität München. Clotilde Thouret is Professor of Comparative Literature at Lorraine University (Nancy, France). Her research focuses on early modern drama in England, Spain and France, with particular emphasis on the relationships between theatre and society, theatre and politics, and on the controversies on theatre. She is the author of Seul en scène. Le Monologue dans le théâtre européen de la première modernité (Angleterre, Espagne, France; 1580 - 1640) (Genève 2010) and Le Théâtre réinventé. La défense de la scène dans l ’ Europe de la première modernité (Rennes 2019). She is the co-editor of Corps et interprétation (XVI e -XVIII e siècles) (Amsterdam/ New York 2012, with Lise Wajeman) and the editor of Le Dramaturge sur un plateau. Quand l ’ auteur dramatique devient personnage (XVI e -XXI e ) (Paris 2018). She has also published numerous articles on Corneille, Jonson and Shakespeare, the early modern theatrical experience (especially emotions), theatre polemics and scandals. From 2013 to 2018, she co-directed with François Lecercle the project “ The hatred of theatre ” (Labex Obvil, Univ. Paris-Sorbonne), which explored the controversies on theatre in Europe and digitized the French corpus. Anna Volkland studierte Dramaturgie in Leipzig und Tanzwissenschaft in Berlin. Tätigkeiten als wissenschaftliche Mitarbeiterin am Lehrstuhl für Theorie und Geschichte des Theaters an der UdK Berlin und Dramaturgin. Sie forscht zur Institutionskritik im Stadttheater seit den späten 1960er Jahren in der DDR und BRD. Isa Wortelkamp, PhD, is a scholar in Dance and Theatre Studies at the Institute of Theatre Studies at University of Leipzig (Heisenberg-Programm, German Research Foundation), where she pursues her research on early 20 th -century dance photography. Publications (selection): Tanzfotografie. Historiografische Reflexionen der Moderne (Bielefeld 2015); Bewegung Lesen. Bewegung Schreiben (Berlin 2012). 313 Autorinnen und Autoren Inhalt Aufsätze: Peter W. Marx (Köln) „Turtles all the way down“. Zu methodischen Fragen der Theaterhistoriographie .... 141 Steff Nellis (Ghent) All rise! Jurisdiction as Performance/ Performative Language ..................................... 159 Christopher Balme (Munich) Covid, Crisis and Prognosis: Prospecting the Future of Theatre ................................. 178 Themenheft: Text, Image, Performance Jan Lazardzig (Berlin) Editorial ............................................................................................................................... 195 Aufsätze: Claudia Daiber (Groningen) / Elke Huwiler (Amsterdam) Text, Performance, and the Production of Religious Knowledge: The Protestant Passion Play and the Catholic Saint Play ......................................................................... 198 François Lecercle (Paris) Rewriting the Unwritten: On the History of Theatrophobia ........................................ 215 Clotilde Thouret (Nancy) In Light of the Controversies: Spectatorship Reconsidered .......................................... 228 Kati Röttger (Amsterdam) Techno-Logics and Techno-Magics: Phantasmagoria in the Age of Electricity ......... 238 Isa Wortelkamp (Leipzig) Scratches, Holes, and Spots: Decay and Disappearance of Early Dance Photography ........................................................................................................................ 254 Tancredi Gusman (Lucerne) Exhibited, Recorded, Collected: Performance Art and Documentation in documenta 5 and 6 .............................................................................................................. 264 Christa-Maria Lerm Hayes (Amsterdam) The Finnegans Wake Reading Group as a Model for “Stealth Activities” between Art and the University ........................................................................................ 278 Gabriele Brandstetter (Berlin) The Effect of the Real: How Do Performing Artists Affect Historiography? .............. 288